Army of the Void
by Stuka87
Summary: So we all know how this goes: Louise attempts to summon a grand, powerful familiar. But what happens when instead of a dragon, manticore, or griffin, she summons an army of her own? I don't own Familiar of Zero, nor am I affiliated with any organization mentioned in the story. Familiar of Zero belongs to the late Noboru Yamaguchi
1. Contact

**Tristain Academy of Magic, 1330 hours**

Louise Françoise Le Blanc de la Vallière shuddered as she pulled her thoughts together. It was the day of the Springtime Familiar Summoning Ritual, which made her all the more nervous, as she was known for her failure to cast magic. This made her the target of insults from her peers, earning her the nickname "Louise the Zero," much to her anger. It didn't help that the rest of the class was looking on in anticipation, expecting yet another explosion from the young mage about to perform the summoning.

"Has everyone managed to summon their familiars?" their professor, Jean Colbert, asked.

"I think only the Zero has yet to summon a familiar," a tanned redhead, Kirche Augusta Frederike von Anhalt-Zerbst, stated, earning a laugh from the rest of the class.

"Assuming she can even summon one," a fat blonde, Malicorne de Grandple, chimed in.

"Silence!" Colbert barked. He turned to Louise. "Ms. Vallière, if you would please."

With a short nod, Louise stepped forward and began the ritual.

"My powerful servant that exists somewhere in this vast universe, my divine, beautiful, wise, powerful servant, heed my call. I wish from very the bottom of my heart that you heed my summon, please appear!"

An explosion was what came out of the spell, the largest one yet. A few students were thrown back from the shockwave the explosion caused, but aside from a few cuts and bruises, everyone was mostly fine.

Louise braced for the insults she knew that were coming, only to hear gasps of surprise.

A large, light brown carriage stood before them. It was unlike anything they had seen before. Colbert noted how its wheels were linked together by some sort of track. But what really unnerved everyone present was the large cannon sitting on top of it.

Seventeen more of the same carriages stood beside it, along with men in strange clothing with a brown and green pattern. They wore unusual helmets, have large packs on their backs, and wielded strange, musket-like weapons.

Almost immediately, chaos broke out among the men.

"Where the hell are we?!" one man yelled in perfect Albionian.

"This sure as hell ain't bloody Weeton Barracks anymore," another stated.

A din ensued among the gathered men and the strange carriages, mostly with questions as to where they were, how they could get back, what they should do, and anything else that the Tristanians were entirely unfamiliar with. Colbert and the students watched on with rising dread as the men got increasingly angry, stressed, and worried all at once.

This went on for a minute until one of the men pulled out something that resembled a pistol and fired three shots into the air, silencing the men and surprising the Tristanians, for they have never encountered a weapon that was capable of firing multiple shots in quick succession.

"Alright, shut up! Get your shit together, lads!" he hollered. He looked around before his eyes settled on Colbert. Before he could move towards the professor, though, one of the students spoke up.

"Would you look at that, the Zero has managed to summon not one, but hundreds of commoners!" Malicorne guffawed, eliciting a laugh from the rest of the students gathered in the courtyard. Louise, obviously displeased by this turn of events, was about to protest when a loud crack silenced the students.

Still holding the pistol, the man strode up to Colbert and swiftly grabbed him by his collar, spun him around, and locked one arm around his neck while holding the gun to his head with the other. Colbert struggled to break free, only for the grip around his neck to tighten.

"You have twenty seconds to answer me. Where are we, and why are we here?" he snarled.

"S-s-sir, I can explain everything, please just let me go!" Colbert gasped.

The students watched in horror as the man interrogated their professor. "I won't ask again. Where. The fuck. Are we?!" he growled.

Colbert knew that he had to act fast, so he gave the man what wanted. "Y-you're in the Tristain Academy of Magic in the k-k-k-kingdom o-of Tristain. You were s-summoned to be the familiar of one of m-m-my students in the Springtime Familiar Summoning Ritual! P-please, I'm telling you the truth!"

The man digested this information for a few seconds before he shoved Colbert away from him and aimed his pistol at the professor. "The fuck is a familiar? Where the hell is Tristain? I want the truth now. Why did you bring me and my men here?"

"Sir, a familiar is a creature whose task is to serve its master until one them dies. I assure you that I'm telling you the truth," Colbert declared with conviction.

"The fuck is this, Harry Potter? We in Hogwarts or something?" one of the men piped up, causing some of the men to chuckle.

The man with the pistol glared behind him. "Can it, Brunswick," he snapped.

Turning back to Colbert, he holstered his pistol. "My men and I were in the middle of preparing for a deployment. Is there any possibility that you could send us back before our chain of command freaks out?" he queried.

Colbert blinked as realization hit him and the students. "You're soldiers? From which country do you hail from?"

The man narrowed his eyes. "Doesn't matter. Can you send us back?"

Colbert frowned for a moment before responding. "No, sir, I'm afraid I cannot. But I'll find a way," he said hastily, upon seeing the men reach for their muskets.

The man glared at him for a few moments before he spoke again. "Let me talk it out with my men."

As he went back to his men, Colbert and the students studied them. They were noticeably taller than the average Tristanian man. He was burning with curiosity, and everything about them fascinated him, from the way they dress, to the weapons they wield, to the steel carriages they brought with them, and where they originated from. He snapped out of his thoughts just in time to see the man walk back to him.

"They didn't like what I told them, but seeing that we have no choice but to stay here, we might as well get this over with. Maj. Julius Sickles, 2nd Battalion, Duke of Lancaster's Regiment, British Army. We're currently attached to the King's Royal Hussars." He motioned to the carriages behind him before extending his hand, which Colbert shook.

"Jean Colbert, I'm a professor at this academy," he responded.

Julius took a step back. "So, who will we be working with?" he asked tersely.

Colbert motioned for Louise to step forward. "Sir Julius, this is Louise Françoise Le Blanc de la Vallière. She was the one who summoned you. Louise, if you could please complete the ritual."

Louise gave Julius a belligerent stare before she spoke.

"Kneel before me, commoner," she ordered.

"I have a name, kid," he retorted.

"I don't care, kneel!" the pink-haired mage repeated.

Muttering under his breath, Julius kneeled down on one knee as the mage strode closer to him.

"You should be honored that a noble is doing this for you," she said haughtily, causing the man before her to roll his eyes. "Pentagram of the five elemental powers, grant your blessings upon this creature and bind it as my familiar."

Before Julius could react, Louise kissed him on the lips. Almost immediately, he felt a burning sensation on his left forearm. He screamed in pain, and the last thing he registered before losing consciousness was his men rushing to his aid.


	2. Halkeginia

**Tristain Academy of Magic, 2105 hours**

Julius woke up with a start, instantly reaching for his L85A2. Scanning his surroundings, he noted that most of the battalion was asleep, with a few still up and about keeping watch. Upon looking up at the night sky, he was surprised to see two moons, one red and one blue, instead of one. He sighed and got up on his feet.

He walked around the throng of sleeping men, intending to speak to his second-in-command. On his way, he passed by two soldiers from his lead platoon having a round of poker with three tankers from one of the Challenger IIs. _'Some things apparently never change,'_ Julius mused.

He soon spotted the man he was looking for. Capt. Lionel Bristol, ever the reserved one, was busy cleaning his pistol with the aid of his taclight. "Bristol," Julius sat down next to him.

"Major," Lionel returned. "I suppose you haven't been brought up to speed yet."

Julius let out a mirthless chuckle as he fished out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, pulling one out and lighting it with his lighter. "You could say that. What time is it, how long was I out?"

Lionel paused for a moment as he started reassembling his pistol. "It's already 2110 hours. As soon as you were out everyone just started panicking, they thought you were done for. Good thing that professor bloke managed to smooth things out with us. Turns out you're quite the heavy sleeper, sir."

This elicited another chuckle from the major, albeit this time it was laced with humor. "Since when have I not slept so soundly, Captain? Anyways, back to what I wanted to talk about. Where exactly are we? I know we're at some kind of academy. Tris – what was that again?"

"Tristain Academy of Magic. Apparently from the map he was able to so kindly give to us, it's their equivalent of Belgium, or something along those lines." Lionel clicked the slide of his pistol back on before rummaging through his rucksack and producing a map. "Take a look."

Julius unrolled the map and studied it. _'So it seems like Tristain is somewhat based on the Low Countries; Gallia and Germania should be pretty self-explanatory; Romalia looks like their version of Italy, and… hmm, Albion?'_

"So does this make us Albionian, then?" Julius asked, somewhat amused.

"That's certainly the case, yes," a new voice said.

1st Lt. Travis Knight, Julius's lead platoon commander, was known for being somewhat well-versed in history, as it was one of his hobbies in his spare time. He handed out a single meal ration pack to Julius. "After several hours of being out cold, I figured that you'd like some chow, sir."

Julius took the MRP, giving a nod of thanks. "So, what do we do from hereon out? There's apparently no way we could get back to England, and from the looks of things, I get turned into a familiar."

"Which automatically turns us into that one girl's private army," Lionel muttered.

"Still, there has to be a way for us to get back to our world. We just have to find out how," Julius stated as he set about preparing his food.

The three sat in silence for a while, and eventually, the meal was prepared. Julius dug in, and within minutes finished his meal. He grabbed what was left of his MRP's wrappers and stuffed it in his rucksack to dispose of later.

"I suppose that's about it from me, gents. Let's get some shuteye, we wake up at 0600 and figure out what to do from here." Julius strode back to his command element and settled in.

Lionel and Travis watched their commander depart before settling in themselves.

It was going to be a long night.


	3. Vallière

**Tristain Academy of Magic, 2140 hours**

Louise stared out of her window, surveying the sight before her. The courtyard where the summoning rituals have taken place was packed with the strange soldiers and carriages that she summoned. Most of the soldiers were asleep, with a few still up doing patrols. As she gazed at them, her mind went back to the events that have occurred earlier that afternoon.

Her familiar, who has called himself Julius Sickles, was apparently the leader of a group of soldiers known as the "Duke of Lancaster's Regiment." Furthermore, he stated that his group was working with another group of soldiers called the "King's Royal Hussars." Mulling over these thoughts, she surmised that she must have summoned an army of nobles and she had taken them away from their families, their country, and most of all, their king. Louise shuddered at the thought of what the implications of such an act would be, although when she had first looked at them, none of them looked like nobles. They might have looked like commoners, but they conducted themselves quite surprisingly well, and their behavior seemed to fit that of a professional army, not a disorganized rabble. Appearance-wise, they wore unusual clothing, ones that she had never seen before.

Her thoughts then shifted to the packs they carried on their backs and the strange muskets they wielded. She wondered how an army entirely equipped with muskets and with no mages present in their ranks would be able to win in battle against an enemy that has an elite force, such as the Manticore Knights, which her mother, Karin Désirée de la Vallière, was a part of; the Griffin Knights under her fiancé, Jean-Jacques de Wardes; and the Musketeer Knights, the Princess of Tristain's elite bodyguard unit. The unusual soldiers' carriages also puzzled Louise. How would they be able to move without the aid of horses? And how would they be able to utilize the cannons they wielded?

Louise sighed; it was clear that all the thinking she had been doing for the past two hours had taken its toll on her. She went back to her bed, resolving to get answers from her familiar tomorrow.

 **Tristain Academy of Magic, 0645 hours**

Julius took another bite of his MRP, going over what had happened thirty minutes ago.

He had spoken to his battalion and the tankers of the King's Royal Hussars regarding their situation in Halkeginia. They had no means of going back, no way to contact home. Everything around them could be a potential hostile, so they had to be careful. They were not keen on underestimating any hostile they could face, whether it's the Taliban back in Afghanistan or whatever Renaissance-style army they encounter. The Hussars and the Lancastrians, surprisingly, agreed to stay with Julius and tough it out until they could find a way home.

Julius finished his breakfast and threw the remains into a garbage bin he had found the night before. Grabbing his rifle, he stood up and walked around, intending to explore the place that was to be where his unit and the Hussars would seemingly be stationed for the foreseeable future.

"Out on a walk, Major?" Lionel's voice piped up behind him.

Julius turned around to see Lionel and Travis standing with their rifles slung across their waists. "Yeah, I wanted to know what we'll be working with if we're to stay here," he stated.

"That sounds reasonable enough," Travis said as Lionel took a pack of Lucky Strikes from his pants' cargo pocket, drawing a stick out and lighting it. "Then I suppose you don't mind if we tag along."

"Well, I suppose I could use some company," Julius chuckled. "Let's go, then."

The three set off, heading for one of the five courtyards within the academy walls. The building was huge, with walls as high as thirty feet with a tower at each interval. Travis could only guess that these towers were where the students likely slept. It reminded him of one of those medieval castles in western and central Europe.

Twenty minutes later, the trio were on their way back to their unit when they came across the very person that had brought them here in this world.

For a while, no one said a word, until Louise broke the silence.

"Familiar, we have to talk." It soon became clear to the three Lancastrians that this girl has some kind of attitude problem. Nevertheless, they decided to play along.

"I'm all ears," Julius replied.

Louise hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Tell me, familiar, are you and your men nobles?"

Julius blinked a few times, unsure how to answer this question.

It was Travis who spoke up. "In our world, most of our countries are ruled by a leader that is chosen by the people. Everyone is treated equally where we come from, and in our country, the nobility, and the queen in particular, are nothing more than state symbols."

Louise mulled the thought over. "So that means you're not nobles? And how are the countries in your world able to keep their people in line without magic?"

"You'll know someday," Julius replied. "On to another matter, though. I know how the master and familiar thing works. I can't be your servant. I have enough on my hands right now."

Louise paled in shock upon hearing what Julius just said. "But… but familiars are supposed to obey their masters! Are you so brazen as to defy a noble like me, commoner?!"

Julius suddenly grabbed her by the throat. "Now you listen to me, and you listen good. Where we come from, in one of our countries, a bunch of nobles abused their power, stealing money from the lower classes. You know what the lower classes did? They rebelled and had the ruling royalty executed for a shitload of corruption, and that country was plagued by revolutions and counterrevolutions afterwards. You see where I'm going with this?"

He roughly pushed her away. Louise, horrified both by Julius's sudden action and what she had just been told, could only nod.

Julius took a deep breath before speaking again. "All we're asking of you is that you treat us as equals, as your allies. There's a saying in our world: 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.' Treat us as your friends, and we'll help you in whatever you need, provided that our help is warranted. But treat us like trash…" he let his sentence hang.

Louise blinked, before coming to a conclusion. "Alright, I understand now," she said. "My apologies for my outburst, it's unbecoming of a noble like me."

"It's alright, I should apologize as well for my unprofessional behavior," Julius returned.

"Could we start over?" Louise asked. "I'm Louise Françoise Le Blanc de la Vallière, third daughter of the duke and duchess of Vallière," she finished with a curtsy.

Julius stood at attention, holding his rifle in such a way that its muzzle was pointing at the ground. "Major Julius Sickles, 2nd Battalion, Duke of Lancaster's Regiment," he said. "Hopefully we can work well together from hereon out."


	4. Duel

**Tristain Academy of Magic, 1045 hours**

Cpl. Michael Holstein, of B Company, 2nd Battalion, strolled through one of the courtyards that happened to be occupied by students who were spending time with their familiars. He ignored the stares being directed his way, and from what little French, Flemish, and Dutch he knew, he could make out the words being directed at him.

Commoner. Mercenary. Brigand. Those words, obviously meant as insults, went simply unheeded; though behind him, Lance Corporal Thomas Taggart and five privates either grumbled, sighed, glared back at the nobles, or did all three actions at once. They had been ordered by their platoon leader, 2nd Lt. Andrew Thorne, to procure supplies for the rest of B Company, as they were running low on foodstuffs.

Their battalion commander, along with Capt. Bristol and 1st Lt. Knight, were currently taking their time talking to the student that had summoned them to this world. He didn't catch her name, although from what he had heard, it seemed that she needed to take anger management classes based on her behavior alone. _'That, or it must be that time of the month again,'_ Michael thought darkly.

"This is totally bullshit, I'm telling you," Private Nathan Campbell, a Liverpudlian, groused, breaking Michael from his train of thought. "Even here on this fucked-up world, we still get assigned on working parties."

"What, you're telling me you'd rather be caught jerking off again like that one time in the barracks back home?" another private, Malcolm Gordon, snickered.

"Says the wanker who could apparently never get enough porn mags back in A-stan, so bite me," Nathan shot back.

"You think this place has anywhere we could get laid?" a third private, Zachary Finlay, cut in.

"Would the lot of you please shut your cockholsters before I make you run laps in full gear around this place?" Michael sighed exasperatedly. "The sooner we get this done, the sooner you morons can get back to whatever fuckery you usually do in your spare time."

"Aye, sir, shutting up now," Nathan said.

Upon reaching the kitchen, Michael glanced around until he saw someone who could be the head chef. He walked up to the man, who was busy stirring a large pot of stew. "Excuse me, sir," Michael began.

The man turned around, surprised to see the men who apparently had been summoned by Louise the day before.

"Yes, what can I do for you gentlemen?" he asked.

"We were wondering if you might have some bread, enough for thirty people. We're running low on food, so hopefully you don't mind."

The man chuckled. "Just give me a minute. Siesta, could you please get some bread from one of the shelves there? Enough to feed thirty men."

"Right away, chef Marteau," a maid responded. She rushed to the shelf behind the chef. Carefully pulling out each loaf, she placed them in two baskets before handing them to Michael.

"Here you go, sir," the maid beamed at him.

"Thank you, lass," Michael smiled back. "And thank you as well, chef Marteau."

Marteau gave out a hearty laugh. "Anytime, lads. You're free to come here and eat anytime you like. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some noble brats to feed."

Michael chuckled, handing the baskets to Nathan and Zachary. He then bade the chef and the maid goodbye as they exited back to the hallway and out on the courtyard. On their way back, he noticed a brunette girl approach them.

"Excuse me, would you be so kind as to tell me where Guiche is?" the girl asked.

"Guiche?" Michael blinked. "I'm afraid I don't know anyone by that name. Could you describe him?"

The girl paused. "Hmm, he's blonde, has blue eyes, and wears his uniform differently from the others."

Michael looked around, trying to find the boy, before Thomas beat him to it.

"Is that him over there?" he pointed to the boy who fit the brunette's description. To the girl's surprise, she saw him with another girl, this time a blonde. She rushed up to him, catching him and his companion off guard. An argument soon broke out between the three of them.

Michael and his section watched on, before turning to leave. Before they got halfway through, however, Guiche stormed up to them blocked their path.

"You!" he jabbed his finger at them. "I cannot believe that you have the gall to make two girls cry! What do you have to say for yourself, peasant?!"

Instead of answering him, he merely sidestepped around the boy, with his section following suit. Guiche strode ahead of them and blocked their path once again. "Answer me, commoner! Unless you're too stupid to even have an answer."

"Move it, fuckboy," Michael growled. "Not our fault that you got caught cheating with another girl."

Guiche spluttered in disbelief. A noble being disrespected by commoners? He would not stand for this! "You insolent fool, you will pay for your foolishness. I challenge you to a duel."

Michael and his men merely glared at him. "We don't have time for this bullshit, let's go."

Just before he was able to take another step, he was interrupted by another voice.

"Cpl. Holstein, what's the meaning of this?!"

He turned around to see his platoon leader, along with Travis, Lionel, Julius, and Louise stalking towards them.

"Sir!" Michael quickly snapped a salute, which Andrew and the others returned. "With all due respect, this fuckboy here accused me of making two girls cry when it's clear that this little shitnugget is the one who cheated in the first place. And the kicker? He challenged me to a duel. A duel! With a kid! Like, are you fucking kidding me?!"

A tense silence hung in the air. At this point they had already drawn a large crowd, some of whom were laughing at Guiche's expense.

Julius merely sighed. "Just don't kill him, alright?"

Guiche laughed, as did the students that were gathered around them.

"I'll make no promises, but consider it a consolation that his death will be quick and painless," the blonde fop confidently said.

This time, it was the Lancastrians' turn to laugh.

"I'm not talking to you, squirt," Julius said once the laughter died down. "I was simply telling my section commander to go easy on you."

At this, Guiche flushed with rage. He glared venomously at Michael. "I'll make an example of you. Meet me at Vestry Fields in an hour."

Louise started to panic. "Julius, you must call this off, there's no way he can win against a noble!"

This only caused Julius to laugh mirthlessly. "Louise, we've faced way more dangerous enemies in our world. Holstein here even got wounded twice in one firefight and he still managed to limp back to base with only minor injuries. Trust me, he knows how to take care of himself."

This did little to ease Louise's fears, however, as she led them to Vestry Fields.

 **Vestry Fields, 1210 hours**

To say that Michael was pissed was an understatement. He moved with determination towards Vestry Fields, with the crowd parting before him. He turned off the safety of his weapon, an L110A3, as he stared at Guiche with all the rage he could muster, letting his LMG hang from its sling across his chest.

"I'm surprised that you have the courage to show yourself at all, commoner," Guiche sneered.

Michael's response was to spit at the ground beside him in contempt.

Despite his nervousness, Guiche continued his taunts. "I'll assure you, though, this will be over before you know it."

Michael grabbed his light machine gun by its pistol grip and pulled back its charging handle. "Are you sure you want to do this, you spoiled two-timing asshat?"

Guiche pulled out a rose from his shirt. "I would never pass up an opportunity to put peasants like you in their place."

He then waved his rose. "My runic name is Guiche the Bronze, hence the bronze Valkyries that shall be your doom!"

A single petal fell from his rose, which transformed into a bronze golem. Michael only looked on, unimpressed.

Before Guiche could give out any order, Michael sprayed the golem down with a ten-round burst, instantly shattering it.

The crowd gasped in surprise as they watched the whole thing happen within a second. How was this possible? What kind of magic allowed this commoner's weapon to instantly destroy a bronze golem?

" **You still want to do it?!"** Michael roared in fury.

Guiche trembled. He saw the fury in his opponent's eyes as he spoke. It unnerved him, and he wanted to regurgitate his breakfast after witnessing such power.

However, he couldn't turn back now; his reputation as a noble was at stake. Trembling, he quickly waved his rose again, this time summoning seven more golems.

Michael let out a much longer burst, destroying each and every golem Guiche has summoned until only nine rounds remained on his ammo belt. A lucky round managed to hit Guiche on his right shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain and to fall on his behind.

Michael removed the belt and loaded a fresh one draped across his shoulder like a bandolier and then switched the safety back on. He drew his L137A1, pulled back the slide, and advanced towards Guiche until he was only five feet away. He aimed his pistol at the blond's head.

"Had enough?" Michael hissed, drawing a murmur from the spectators.

"Y-yes, yes! I yield!" Guiche bawled, clutching his right shoulder, which was now bleeding heavily. Michael then aimed between Guiche's legs and fired the pistol, the 9x19 Parabellum round impacting into the dirt.

"That was for two-timing, something you should keep in mind next time you do it again."

By then, Guiche had soiled himself and was reduced to a sniffling mess. Michael paid no heed and shifted his aim and fired a second shot, sending the round ten inches from his right leg. "That was for being the arrogant fuckwit that you are, thinking that you have all the power above all else just because of your social status."

He relocated his aim yet again, letting off a final shot that landed five inches from his left hip. "And that was for underestimating your opponent in a duel."

Still seething with rage, Michael holstered his pistol and turned away. "What a fucking waste of time," he spat as he stalked off.

The entire affair had only taken two minutes.


	5. Gandálfr

**Tristain Academy of Magic, 1220 hours**

"Sir Julius? Do you have a moment?"

Julius turned to see Colbert walking up to him, book and pen in hand. With nothing else to do for the next few hours, he decided to humor the professor.

"Professor Colbert, how can I help you?"

Colbert looked around. The Lancastrians, as he heard the soldiers led by Julius were called, were eyeing him warily. Julius raised his hand, telling them that everything was fine.

"I need to speak with you for a moment, if you'd please," Colbert began. "When Ms. Vallière sealed the contract with you yesterday, did you feel a burning sensation on your body just before you collapsed?"

Julius blinked. "Contract? You mean when she bound me as her familiar?"

Colbert nodded. "Yes. You see, upon summoning a familiar, the mages are supposed to seal it with a kiss, as you have seen firsthand."

Julius hummed in thought. "Well, my left arm felt like it was on fire, and from what I heard from Capt. Bristol, things nearly got messy."

Colbert's eyes lit up. "Could you please show me your arm? It's supposed to have the familiar's runes etched on it."

Julius gave Colbert a funny look before rolling up his sleeve, and once Colbert saw the runes, he proceeded to write them down. Julius glanced down at his arm, trying to make out the runic writing.

"Interesting. Very interesting," Colbert murmured, causing Julius to look at him in confusion. "Alright, sir Julius, thank you for your time." He then turned to walk away.

Julius blinked again, rolling his sleeve back down, and thought of Colbert's actions as nothing more than mere curiosity.

 **Headmaster's Office, 1253 hours**

"Are you sure about this?" the academy's headmaster, Old Osmond, asked in surprise.

"There's no doubt about it. I admit, it's rather strange. A human being summoned as a familiar?" Colbert paced back and forth, a thick book held in his hand.

"There has never been a case of a human being summoned as a familiar, let alone an army. What did this man say his name is?" the headmaster asked.

"Julius, sir. Julius Sickles, and if what he had told me this morning is true, he and his men are not of this world."

Colbert paused, taking a deep breath. "There's a more pressing concern, headmaster. The runes on sir Julius's arm was something I didn't recognize, so I took a look in the library a few minutes ago. It's very similar to what I found here."

He opened his book, searching for a particular page until he found it and showed the rune in question to the headmaster.

Osmond's eyes widened in recognition before he turned to his green-haired secretary. "Ms. Longueville, could you please give me and Mr. Colbert a moment?"

Longueville nodded before turning to step out of the room. "Of course, headmaster."

Once Osmond was sure that no one else was within earshot, he turned to Colbert, a serious expression written on his face.

"This runic familiar is said to be nothing more than a myth, and to think that Ms. Vallière summoned a familiar such as Julius, I have a strong suspicion that this has something to do with the lost element."

Colbert took a step back, aghast at what such a thought could mean. "W-wait, headmaster, you don't mean that – "

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm implying," Osmond said, resolve in his tone. "Mr. Colbert, we never discussed any of this. You and I have no knowledge of Ms. Vallière being a void mage and her familiar being a Gandálfr. Do I make myself clear on this?"

Colbert gulped, a feeling of dread welling up inside him. "Very clear, sir. Very clear."

 **Tristain Academy of Magic, 1945 hours**

The past seven hours had been busy for the Lancastrians and the Hussars. Both units had tackled the issue of being clustered in one area, resulting in little room to maneuver. The Challenger IIs have been placed outside the academy walls, with four sides being lined with three tanks and the fifth one with six. This gave the Hussars a three hundred and sixty degree coverage of the entire perimeter. Patrols have also begun, with five men responsible for covering each courtyard. Another twenty men were assigned to each of the five towers, with one trooper per floor.

Michael, who had been assigned to the third floor of one of the towers, was ten minutes into his patrol. He had come straight from kitchen, where he and Thomas had been given a hearty dinner by Marteau and other members of the kitchen staff. Marteau had been enthusiastic upon learning that not only had Michael defeated a noble in a duel, but he had done so without so much as breaking a sweat and in such a short period of time. They had called Michael their "thunder," after the weapon he had used in the duel earlier that day, which he found odd but amusing.

Michael paused at the end of the corridor and mulled over these thoughts as he took out a cigarette pack from his jacket pocket, lighting one up before resuming his patrol. He took a drag, the nicotine steadying his nerves as he unslung his L85A2, having traded it for the L110A3 he had used earlier that afternoon. As he turned around, he came face to face with a large, red salamander.

It wasn't the size of the lizard or its color that nearly startled Michael. Rather, it was the burning flame at its tail that shocked him. Michael had to rub his eyes in order to make sure that he wasn't just seeing things.

"What the bloody hell is that thing?" he blurted out. As soon as he had spoken, the salamander moved so fast that Michael didn't manage to react in time as the lizard grabbed him by the collar of his uniform before it skittered off.

" **Oi, what the flying fuck?! For the love of all that is holy, put! Me! Down! Right this moment!"** Michael yelled. The salamander then entered one of the rooms lining the hallway, where he was unceremoniously dumped on the floor.

The corporal glanced around him, confused. Candles were lit just about everywhere, and standing before him was a tanned redhead, one of the students who had watched his duel with Guiche that afternoon. She was wearing nothing but some sort of lingerie.

Michael growled as he got up on his feet, loading a magazine and chambering a round. Before he could switch the safety off, the girl spoke.

"Welcome to my private domain, Michael Holstein," she took a step towards him. "I know I'm doing something I'm not supposed to, but the thing is my code name is known as "Fever." I have a tendency to burn up like a torch."

Michael took a step back, removing his rifle's safety and aiming it at the girl. "What do you want?" he snapped.

The woman giggled. "Oh, my sweet Michael, you don't understand. I'm in love, you see, and I think it's safe to say that the one I'm in love with is you, and I must say that love does always come unexpectedly, don't you think?"

Michael simply gave the girl an icy glare. "Your point?" he grated out.

The woman batted her eyelashes at him, although this only served to irritate the young corporal. "You looked so handsome when you defeated Guiche in your duel this afternoon. When I witnessed it, Kirche the Fever suddenly became Kirche the Ardent." She leaned towards him, her lips puckered.

Michael turned and strode to the door, opening it. "Look, whoever you are, I don't have time for any of your bullshit. The last thing I need is to get chewed out by my CO, so if you could please let me do my patrol in peace for the rest of the fucking night, that'd be great." With that, he walked out and slammed the door, leaving a stunned Kirche.

He turned around to see Louise walking towards him. "Let me guess: Zerbst?" she inquired.

Michael sighed. "If you're talking about that bitch who had the great idea to take me away from my patrol duties, then yes, you're right."

Louise merely smirked. "You know, I think you and I will get along just fine, since I hate her so much."

The corporal slung his rifle as he walked past her. "I think I can agree with you on that one," he said as he resumed his patrol.


	6. Tristania

**Tristain Academy of Magic, Medical Wing, 2035 hours**

Guiche de Gramont stared emptily at the wall in front of him as his girlfriend, Montmorency Margarita La Fère de Montmorency, changed his bandages for the third time that day. His food lay untouched, partly due to not being able to use his dominant arm for the meantime and partly due to his lack of appetite. The duel from that afternoon had rendered him a shell of his former self, and from what Montmorency had heard, it had seemed likely that Guiche would remain in such a state for a lengthy amount of time.

"Guiche, please, you have to eat if you're going to somewhat recover," Montmorency pleaded as she finished bandaging her boyfriend. "What would your father think if he sees you in such a state? You can't just keep on sulking all day."

Guiche only shook his head, either unwilling or unable to respond to Montmorency's coaxing.

The blonde girl sighed. It was unusually difficult to get Guiche to talk, although given today's events she could hardly blame him. As she looked up into the blond fop's face, she recoiled at what she saw.

His eyes registered fear. It was not the usual kind of fear that Guiche would normally express when Montmorency would catch him chasing other women. This fear was different; it was the kind of fear that would be usually associated with a feeling of powerlessness, and now she started to panic as his breathing became shallower and quicker, until it came to the point where he felt like was being suffocated.

"Guiche?! Guiche! Pull yourself together!" Montmorency shook him, taking care not to aggravate his injuries. "Guiche! For the love of Brimir, get a hold on yourself!"

It had turned out that slapping Guiche on the face was enough to bring the boy back to his senses. "Montmorency? What… what just happened?" he asked, his whole frame soaked with sweat.

Montmorency sighed and slumped down on Guiche's chest, finally succumbing to her emotions. "You looked like you were about to lose it, Guiche! I… Guiche, you have to tell me what's bothering you! You can't just keep all of your thoughts bottled up inside you! I can't… I just can't…" she started sobbing.

Guiche stared out at the window in contemplation. "I think… I think we've all been wrong, Montmorency. All of those times when we called her a zero when she always bests us in theoretical magic… we should have seen it. _I_ should have seen it."

Montmorency looked up, seeing the emptiness in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Guiche stared at her. The pain in his eyes would haunt Montmorency for the rest of the night.

"The duel. Those soldiers. Those carriages. If the leader of those soldiers is Louise's familiar, what's to say that she could easily destroy entire armies with the kind of power under her? You saw the duel, how I was defeated so effortlessly by one of those soldiers."

Guiche hardened his glare. "One soldier, Montmorency. One soldier was all it took to defeat me. Just think of what they could do to Tristain."

Montmorency paled as she saw where his train of thought was going. "Then we have to stop insulting Louise and get on her good graces."

 **Tristain Academy of Magic, Courtyard, 2135 hours**

"Why do I even need a sword? I've got my bayonet with me if I ever run out of ammunition."

Julius looked up from the map he was studying, a local map of Tristain which he had requisitioned from the academy's headmaster, and gave Louise a befuddled look. Lionel and Travis looked on, curious to see where this was going.

"Julius, it is customary for soldiers to carry swords with them at all times, especially since you're the leader of these men. That, and you should learn how to use a sword in battle," the young mage explained.

Julius raised his eyebrow at this as he took a drag of his cigarette. "Louise, in the time and world where we come from, swords are mostly used for ceremonial purposes. You have seen firsthand what our weapons can do when you watched Cpl. Holstein's duel this afternoon."

Louise took a moment to ponder over the major's words. A sword, while far less effective in the style of combat the Lancastrians are used to, can still do some damage. She has yet to witness how Julius and his men perform close combat drills, something that Julius had promised to demonstrate to her on the following day, which was the Day of the Void.

"On the other hand," Julius broke the mage out of her thoughts. "I suppose that getting a sword as a souvenir wouldn't be too bad. It'll at least remind me of you whenever I look at it."

Louise's spirits lifted. She was all too eager to accept Julius' proposition.

"Then it's settled. We're going to the capital tomorrow, I know where I can get you a sword."

Julius glanced down at the ground. "We can use the tank to get there. It can give us additional protection."

Louise blinked in confusion. "What's a tank?"

Julius chuckled at this. "You know those vehicles that came with us when you summoned us here? Those are what we call tanks."

The mage's eyes widened at this. But then a thought came to her mind. "Is it even possible to get there using this… tank? I doubt that my horse will be able to pull it all the way there."

Julius's chuckle turned to outright laughter, causing some of the Lancastrians and the Hussars to stare in confusion. This only served to annoy Louise.

"Julius, what's so funny?" she snapped.

The major stopped laughing and gave Louise a look of amusement. "Louise, tanks don't need horses to enable them to move. I'd show you how they operate, but I'm afraid that'll have to wait until tomorrow. For now, we should get some sleep, it's getting late."

Louise gasped, having lost track of the time. "Brimir help me, I didn't notice! I'll see you tomorrow, sir Julius!" With that, the mage ran back to one of the towers where her room was located.

Julius watched her leave before making his way outside to speak with the Hussars' commander, Maj. Marcus Hudson, about tomorrow's plans.

 **Tristain Academy of Magic, 0730 hours**

Kirche paced around her room in thought. Her efforts to seduce Michael had not only failed, it had also put her on his bad side. Being the persistent mage that she is, however, she deduced that he might be only hiding his real feelings for her. "Yes," she purred to herself. "He's the perfect one." She was pondering on how to seduce him when she heard the neighing of a horse, followed by a whine that dissolved into an earth-shaking rumble. She glanced out her window and saw Louise on horseback, in the middle of a conversation with some of the soldiers who were riding on two of the steel carriages that was on everyone's minds since the day before. There was smoke coming from the rear of the carriages, although the soldiers paid it no mind.

Kirche smirked. "Going out, I see. I suppose I can tell her that I just happened to be in the exact same place at the exact same time."

Intrigued on finding out where they were heading, she rushed to her friend's room and knocked, opening the door immediately afterwards.

Tabitha d'Orleans, a mage with short, blue hair and glasses, glanced up from her book and immediately casted a silencing spell on the redhead. She watched Kirche rant with a deadpan expression before undoing the spell.

"We're leaving right now, Tabitha. Get dressed," the redhead finished.

"Day of the Void, not going," the bespectacled mage replied.

Kirche sighed in frustration. "Look, I know how much you value the Day of the Void, but I'm telling you. I'm in love right now with someone, but he's gone and headed off to who knows where with that damned Vallière! I need to know where they're headed. Come on, Tabitha, please?"

Tabitha merely shook her head. "Not doing it."

Kirche closed her eyes and massaged her forehead. "I forgot, you won't do it unless I tell you the whole thing." She took a deep breath. "I want to go after them but I don't know where they went and I need your familiar's help in finding them! Pleeease, please please please?"

Tabitha sighed, snapping her book shut before giving Kirche a sidelong glance. "Done," she said.

Kirche squealed with joy. "Thank you, thank you Tabitha!"

The blue-haired mage simply walked past the redhead, opening her windows and letting out a sharp whistle. Seconds later her familiar, a blue rhythm dragon named Sylphid, hovered beside her window. Tabitha took a moment to get dressed, and within two minutes the two mages were airborne.

 **Tristanian Airspace, altitude 600 meters, 0740 hours**

Kirche let out a contented sigh. "You know, I'm starting to like Sylphid even more," she said.

Tabitha merely scanned the Tristanian countryside below them. "Direction?" she asked.

"Er, I was kind of in a rush, so I have no idea," the redhead nervously chuckled.

Tabitha kept scanning until she found them. "Horse with rider, two carriages with thirty men close behind. Don't eat them," she ordered her dragon, which responded by tracking them all the way to the capital. "This better be good, otherwise we're heading back."

Kirche just pouted behind her. "Tabitha, since when do I ever fail to impress you?" she asked.

Tabitha merely glanced back at her with a flat look. The stare was all the redhead needed to know before she gave up. "Fine, I still have to make an impression," she groaned. The bespectacled mage then turned her head back to the skies around her.

 **Tristania, 1145 hours**

Julius made his way through the bustling streets of Tristania as he followed Louise to an armory. Half of the infantry force he had brought with him, Cutlass 2-1, had been instructed to wait with the Challenger IIs one klick away from the city walls, while the remainder, Cutlass 1-1, followed the mage, as was their agreement before they left the academy. Surrounded by unknown people in an unknown environment, the Lancastrians' training kicked in, surveying each and every building they pass by. Their appearance had gained them mixed reactions from the populace. Some of them were curious about the strange men wearing strange clothing and packs on their backs and brandishing strange muskets. Others viewed them with caution and kept their distance. Still others viewed them with hostility, which only placed Julius and his men on high alert.

Louise strode down an alleyway, with Julius and the others following behind, until she reached a particular shop. "This is it," she said. She opened the door and entered, with Julius, Lionel, and Travis following close behind. The rest of Cutlass 1-1 went back out to the main street, keeping watch for anything suspicious.

As Louise did her business with the shopkeeper, Julius and the other two officers inspected the various swords, daggers, spears, halberds, glaives, and maces currently displayed, testing each blade for its strength, which in their opinion was subpar compared to the L3A1 bayonet that they currently use in terms of quality of material.

"I want a bigger and wider sword for him," Louise told the shopkeeper, jerking her head in Julius' direction.

The shopkeeper balked at her request – no, demand for the kind of sword she wanted. "Ms. Vallière, this sword is the perfect one for him. I suggest that you reconsider," he gestured to the saber in her hands.

The mage glared stonily at the shopkeeper. "You'll get me a better sword, or I'm having this shop closed permanently. Your choice," she said in an eerily calm voice.

Julius, Lionel, and Travis awkwardly watched the exchange, and after a tense few seconds the shopkeeper went to the storage room, presumably to get a sword that would satisfy the mage. While Louise waited, the three officers continued browsing the rows of weapons laid out before them before the shopkeeper returned with a large, golden broadsword, a ruby stone embedded in its hilt.

"This is the best sword we have in Tristain. It was forged by the greatest alchemist-mage in Germania, Johann Kleist von Spee. Its blade can cut through steel like a hot knife through butter," the shopkeeper boasted.

While Louise seemed intrigued by the sword, it took all three officers with her a large amount of effort to stop themselves from sighing in disappointment.

"How much is it?" the mage asked.

"Three thousand new gold," the shopkeeper answered, causing Louise to stumble back in shock, as well the officers' jaws to drop.

"WHAT?!" Louise cried out in disbelief. "I can get a nice house with a forest behind it, and complete with a garden for that price! Are you serious?!"

The shopkeeper just shrugged. "A good sword has as much value as a castle," he said.

Julius stepped forward. "Are you trying to rip us off?" he asked.

The shopkeeper turned his head to the officer. "Sir, I assure you that this weapon's quality justifies its price," he said.

Julius inspected the sword, turning it over in his hands. "A moderate strike would be just enough to break the blade. Gold is easily malleable." He applied some pressure on the blade, causing it to bend ever so slightly before handing it back.

"This one, on the other hand," Travis cut in, holding up a rusted longsword, "appears more durable as compared to that thing in your hands right now."

The shopkeeper's face paled at this, and Louise turned to the major. "Julius, your decision?"

Julius took out his cigarette pack, lit one, and took a drag before motioning to the sword in Andrew's hands. "I'll take that one. One hundred new gold, take it or leave it," he said in a tone that wouldn't take no for an answer.

The shopkeeper sighed before processing the transaction, and without another word the quartet left, finding Nathan with a guitar.

"Done with your shopping, Major?" the private grinned.

Julius gave the private a puzzled look. "Pte. Campbell, would you mind telling me how you managed to get your hands on a guitar?" the officer asked.

Nathan just laughed. "Apparently it turns out that I got a copy of Playboy that I lost interest in, so I guess you could say that I did some business of my own," the private chuckled, causing the rest of Cutlass 1-1 to laugh. Louise just stared, clueless.

"Playboy?" the mage parroted.

Julius turned to Louise. "If you value your innocence, I suggest that you don't pry any further," he sighed. "Alright, we're heading back. Let's move out."


	7. Briefing

**Tristain Academy of Magic, 1745 hours**

Julius jumped down from the Challenger II he was riding on, with the rest of his ad hoc platoon following suit. They followed Louise back into the academy and into the courtyard, where the rest of the Lancastrians were currently training in hand-to-hand combat. A large crowd of students were currently gathered on one side of the courtyard, curiously watching the soldiers train. Although crude by the mages' standards, they noted that their style of fighting was on par, if not superior to, with that of the commoners serving in the Tristanian armed forces.

Louise, upon seeing the Lancastrians train, was initially alarmed, but then she remembered that these men have their own methods of fighting up close, so she just watched them with interest.

After thirty minutes, the Lancastrians decided to call it a day and dispersed, either to do some additional training or to prepare for their patrols, with the students heading back inside to their rooms or to the dining hall. It was then that Julius decided to check out the longsword strapped on his back.

As he held the sword in his hands, he cannot help but feel that despite not being able to use a sword before, he felt that he already has the proficiency in using one, and then it hit him.

He stuck the sword in the courtyard's soil and rolled up his left sleeve, inspecting the runes on his arm. So far they looked like nothing more than a tattoo, until he picked up the sword.

What happened next nearly caused him to drop his sword in shock, because upon gripping it firmly in his hands, the runes suddenly glowed. "What on earth?" he breathed.

Curious, he sheathed the sword and noticed that the runes had stopped glowing. He quickly drew his pistol and aimed it at the ground in front of him, and sure enough, the runes glowed again.

He holstered his pistol and repeated the process with his rifle, and just like what had happened, the runes on his arm glowed. He slung his rifle and rolled down his sleeve; by this point he had gone from shocked to curious to excited within the span of a minute. He broke out into a jog, searching for Lionel and Travis.

"Capt. Bristol! Lt. Knight!" the major called out, his men looking on in confusion. Seconds later, the two officers walked up to him and saluted.

"Capt. Bristol reporting as ordered, sir!" Lionel stated.

"1st Lt. Knight reporting as requested, sir!" Travis followed suit.

"Bristol, I want every company and platoon commander and the Hussars assembled before me posthaste. Knight, take four men with you and get professor Colbert here. On the double."

Lionel and Travis looked at the major in confusion. "Sir, what's going on?" the lieutenant asked.

Julius just sighed. "You'll find out soon enough. Get moving."

The two officers saluted, and Travis walked towards the central building of the academy as he keyed his helmet-mounted mic, contacting two noncommissioned officers and two privates.

Meanwhile, Lionel carried out his orders. "All company and platoon leaders, report to Maj. Sickles in front of the main building ASAP. That includes all tank commanders, over."

Within ten minutes, the Lancastrians and the Hussars were assembled in front of Julius, with Colbert looking on in confusion. "Sir Julius, may I ask why I have been called?" the mage asked.

In response, Julius rolled up his sleeve and showed his runes before taking out his sidearm, causing the runes to glow, much to everyone's surprise.

"Professor, I was wondering if you could tell me why these runes glow whenever I hold a weapon in my hand," Julius said.

Colbert stared at the officer's arm. Sure enough, the runes were glowing, and as soon as he holstered his pistol, the glow died down. He held his rifle in his hands, muzzle pointing down, and the glow reappeared. Colbert blinked for a few seconds before he could respond.

"Sir Julius, what you're about to hear must never be known by anyone aside from your men. The runes on your arm signify that you're a Gandálfr, which means the Left Hand of God. A Gandálfr is a legendary void familiar that has the ability to use any weapon proficiently and take on entire armies on their own. It is tasked with protecting its master as it casts void spells. Void magic is supposed to be nothing but a myth, and it is considered a lost element."

It took the Lancastrians and the Hussars a moment to digest this new piece of information as Julius spoke up. "So let me get this straight. Our role is basically to be Louise's personal bodyguard, is that it?" Some of the assembled officers chuckled at this remark.

Colbert nodded. "We never expected Ms. Vallière to be a void mage and you to be a Gandálfr; with that being said, I request that you please not let others know of this, as the reason is that void magic has the ability to destroy anything, and if a void mage falls into the wrong hands, the consequences would be dire."

Julius paced around, with the Lancastrians, the Hussars, and Colbert looking on, before a thought hit the major.

"Alright, we'll stay here. As long as you find a way to get us home," he said.

Colbert nodded slowly. "I'll do whatever I can to find you a way home," the mage declared

The major smiled wryly. "By the way, would you happen to know a spell that enables our weapons to have unlimited ammunition?" he asked.

Colbert hummed in thought before looking up at the officer. "As a matter of fact, I do."

 **Unknown location, 2348 hours**

"Strange soldiers and even stranger weapons? Are you sure about this?" a Tristanian officer asked.

"I saw it with my own eyes. Horseless carriages and muskets than can fire one round after another in quick succession? This is something unheard of," a hooded figure responded.

The officer grunted in annoyance. "This just got a lot more complicated. How do you plan on taking the Staff of Destruction?" the officer demanded.

The hooded figure paused in thought. "A Familiar Exhibition will be held within a few days, and everyone is sure to be occupied by the event. As for the soldiers, they're commanded by a Gandálfr. And you know who the Gandálfr answers to."

The officer drew closer to the hooded figure. "Do whatever it takes to get Louise and the Staff of Destruction. I'll take the next ship to Albion and inform the Lord Protector of these developments. Do not fail this one," he snarled.

"Since when have I ever failed in completing a task?" the hooded figure snapped.

The officer chuckled. "I'm just reminding you of what's at stake here. If we are to succeed, getting a void mage to execute our will is just the first step."

"Leave that to me," the hooded figure said. "It will be only a matter of time before we succeed. Once Tristain falls, we should have a firm foothold on the continent."

The officer turned to leave. "I'll make my preparations, then. Long live Reconquista."

"Long live Reconquista."


	8. Rescue

**Alvis Hall, 1225 hours**

"I kinda feel sorry for Professor Colbert, but if we're gonna stay here for who knows how long, we need as much ammo as we can carry," Julius said, taking another bite of pork stew. "At the very least, we can start live-fire exercises in order to keep our marksmanship sharp."

Travis took a sip of wine from his goblet. "I'd never imagine operating in a place that somewhat resembles 17th Century Europe," he replied. The two officers, along with Lionel, had been invited by Louise to have lunch with her, resulting in the usual insults being thrown the mage's way, but the sight of Michael's platoon entering the dining hall in order to keep an eye on the battalion commander quickly shut them up, with the nobles learning to fear the corporal due to his duel two days ago, and the commoner staff all too happy to have him around.

"The question is how we're gonna do it when there are no targets for us to shoot at," Lionel mused.

The other officers paused in thought before Louise came up with an idea. "I think I can talk to the princess about getting some armor that her bodyguards no longer use and have them brought here. I'm sure she wouldn't mind at all."

Julius blinked. "You know the princess?" he asked. "I mean, I'm sure that everyone around here knows her, but are you saying that you know her personally?"

Louise gave the major a smug look. "Princess Henrietta is currently the ruling monarch of Tristain, as well as my childhood friend," she said. "Just leave it all to me."

The three officers glanced at one another. "Dare I ask how old she is?" Lionel asked.

Louise took a spoonful of stew, chewing carefully before swallowing it. "She's seventeen," she replied.

Julius's and Lionel's eyes widened in shock, nearly choking on their food. Travis seemed less surprised, the mage's answer only causing him to raise his eyebrows as he digested that bit of information.

"I have no idea why you two are so surprised about this fact. Back in our world, we had monarchs who took the throne at an early age. Take Charles XII of Sweden, for example. He ascended to the throne when he was 14," Travis quipped.

The other two officers merely stared at him. "Lieutenant, just shut up," Lionel sighed wearily.

Julius downed the last of his wine as another thought entered his mind. "I heard that a count came over yesterday. What was his name again?"

"Hmm?" Louise took a moment to wipe her mouth with a napkin. "You mean Count Mott? He's the royal messenger, he comes by on a regular basis. I have no intention of being associated with him or his arrogance," the mage scowled.

"Yeah, I've had my fair share of arrogant people. Like that bloke I beat two days ago," Michael said as he walked up to the quartet. "I was just in the kitchen a few moments ago, looking for Siesta."

The officers blinked. "Siesta? You mean the afternoon nap?" Lionel asked.

The corporal laughed at his question. "No, captain, I meant the maid who assisted us in resupplying our platoon two days ago." His smile then quickly morphed into a scowl. "The chef told me that the count came over yesterday in order to get her transferred to his manor. From what I heard, whenever a noble asks for a particular girl by name, it usually leads to her being his side chick against her will."

The quartet fell silent at this news. Most of B Company liked Siesta due to her helpful nature, and they would be damned if someone or something gets forcibly taken from them.

The three officers got up and excused themselves from Louise's presence. They strode towards the exit, with Andrew's platoon following close behind. Once they were outside the dining hall, Julius made his decision.

"Capt. Graham, I want your company assembled outside the academy posthaste," the major keyed his comms as he walked swiftly towards the academy's gates.

 _"_ _Do we have a situation, sir?"_ Capt. Daniel Graham, commanding officer of B Company, responded.

"I'm aware that your company has established a rapport with a maid named Siesta. She left for a noble's estate earlier this morning against her will. You saw one of those nobles yesterday when he dropped by the academy, I presume?" Julius said.

Daniel cursed. _"So I assume we're launching a rescue op?"_ he quickly put two and two together.

"That's right, captain, and your company will be prosecuting the operation tonight," Julius nodded his head in confirmation.

On the way out of the academy, Julius stopped a student who was about to have a late lunch. "Excuse me, lad, do you have a moment?" the major asked.

The student held his composure as he looked at the three officers in front of him. "Yes, sir, what can I do for you?" he blurted out.

"Do you know Count Mott?" Julius asked.

"Yes, the whole academy knows him," the student nodded. "Quite the lecherous man he is, if what I've heard is correct."

Julius chuckled at this. "Would you happen to know where he lives?"

Another nod. "Yes, but may I ask as to why you want to know?"

The major glanced at his three subordinates. "I'm sorry, but that's classified. We need to know where he lives, we're pressed for time."

The student just sighed. "Alright, these are the directions…"

 **Tristain Academy of Magic, 1325 hours**

"From what we know, Mott's estate is surrounded by a fifteen-foot wall. He's got roughly a hundred guards continuously patrolling the perimeter, and possibly another eighty inside the estate's grounds. We don't know if he has more men waiting near the location, so keep an eye out for any reinforcements that try to come in," Daniel outlined the mission.

A private spoke up. "Sir, should we expect armored support?"

Daniel paced back and forth in front of his company. "C Troop will be bringing us to the target, so yes, they'll provide fire support when necessary. We'll move out at 2000 hours and commence the raid at 2100 hours. I expect this op to take no more than thirty minutes. And remember, we want Mott alive. Questions?"

No one spoke up, so Daniel wrapped up the briefing. "Alright, gear up. Dismissed."

The company headed back into the academy, where Julius was speaking with Louise.

"Major, preparations are almost done," Daniel saluted.

Julius returned the salute as the mage spoke. "Sir Julius, are you sure about this? Count Mott is a triangle-class water mage, he's someone who's not to be trifled with," she said nervously.

Daniel merely scoffed at this. "Did you see how Cpl. Holstein took down that blonde fop with ease two days ago? This'll be a cakewalk."

Louise turned to the captain. "Cakewalk? What's that?" she asked.

Daniel took out his canteen and took a sip of water. "It means that we'll have no trouble in dealing with Mott. We're professionals, so everything should go smoothly."

The captain then turned to Julius and saluted. "Major, with your permission I'll make my preparations now."

The major saluted back, a grim expression on his face. "Permission granted, captain. Dismissed."

Daniel walked towards his company, which was busy loading rounds into magazines and securing as many grenades as possible.

 **Tristanian Countryside, 2 klicks from target, 2021 hours**

Eighty infantrymen disembarked from eight Challenger IIs, having reached their staging point. They immediately formed up into sections of eight, marching at a brisk pace until they were five hundred meters from the estate.

Daniel took out his binoculars and scanned the target area, taking note of the guards' patrol patterns. He quickly counted the number of guards outside the walls. 'Ninety guards armed with Renaissance-era weapons. Nothing we can't handle,' the captain mused. After a few minutes of observing the area, he stowed his binoculars and checked his watch, which has been adjusted to correspond to the time zone in Tristain.

2053 hours. With a hand signal, which was passed down to the whole company, he fixed his bayonet, with the rest of the company doing the same. Another signal had the company jog for a hundred meters before dropping into a prone position. The company released the safeties of their firearms and waited for the signal.

Daniel glanced at his watch again, counting down the seconds as they ticked by.

Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.

Daniel keyed his comms. "Lion, lion, lion."

With a furious thunder, eight L30A1 rifled guns roared in defiance as the Challenger IIs hurled their 120mm high-explosive squash head ordnance into the front walls, killing eighteen guards, injuring forty-four, and throwing the rest into panic. The company then rose on its feet and charged towards the estate, eliminating the survivors as they advanced.

 **Count Mott's Estate, 2041 hours**

Siesta sighed dejectedly as she washed herself in the bath. It had been fourteen hours since she was taken from the academy against her will, but in light of the current situation, she knew that there was nothing she could do as she was pressed into serving Count Mott in more ways than just housekeeping, and she shuddered in disgust as she pictured the count using her body to satisfy his urges. She desperately prayed to Brimir for some sort of deliverance.

A servant then called out to her. "Ms. Siesta, the count requests your presence at his bedchambers as soon as possible. Please hurry up."

The maid wiped away the tears that were pooling around her eyes. "Yes, I'll be there," she responded. She took a few more minutes to lament on her current situation before finishing her bath and getting dressed in her uniform. "Someone, anyone, please help me," she whispered to herself before heading for Mott's room.

She was halfway to the count's quarters when eight explosions knocked her off her feet, with the other servants shouting in alarm and the guards rushing outside to see what had caused the ruckus. She shakily got up on her feet and was about to start heading back the way she came when she heard a burst of gunfire.

Siesta was about to run for the first floor when suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and a wand poke her neck. "My Siesta, either you do as I say or you will no longer see the sun rise," Mott whispered in her ear.

 **Estate Perimeter, 2110 hours**

"Sgt. Singleton, Sgt. Sims, have your men secure the ground floor. Sgt. Murdoch, Cpl. Holstein, start searching for the package. Move, move!" Daniel barked to his men.

As sergeants James Singleton and Brian Sims ordered their sections to search the ground floor for any more hostiles, Michael scanned the floor above him as he and his section slowly made their way upstairs, with Sgt. Gerald Murdoch's section close behind. They methodically searched each room, kicking down doors and eliminating any guard trying to rush them.

Michael's and Gerald's sections stacked up on another door, with Malcolm kicking it down and the two sections moving into what could only be the count's room. They immediately halted when they saw a man clothed in red holding Siesta at wandpoint.

"Michael! Please, help me!" Siesta pleaded.

The count took a step backwards, dragging the maid with him. "One more step and she dies."

"You're outnumbered and outmatched, Mott, I suggest you give up," Michael shot back.

The count gave them a venomous glare. "Why would I surrender to a rabble of peasants like you?" he snapped.

Michael slowly adjusted his aim until his rifle was pointed at the count's hand that was holding the wand. "Let her go now or I'll shoot!" the corporal yelled.

"You wouldn't dare! You wouldn't dare shoot a noble in his own home! You wouldn't AAAAAAHHHHHH!"

Michael pulled the trigger, the 5.56x45mm NATO round tearing into the count's hand. Siesta stumbled towards the Lancastrians, and Gerald's section moved in to restrain the count, who screamed as his arms were bound behind him.

Siesta threw herself into Michael's chest, sobbing in relief now that she was in safe hands. The corporal did his best to comfort her before guiding her back downstairs, with a struggling Mott in tow, who had his mouth bound with duct tape.

Daniel, upon seeing both objectives completed, keyed his comms. "Dagger 2 to Dagger Actual, package secure and HVT in custody, how copy?"

Julius responded immediately. _"Dagger Actual to Dagger 2, solid copy. Excellent job out there. Bring them home, the drinks are on us, over."_

Daniel checked his watch. 2126 hours. "Dagger 2 copies all, Dagger 2 out."

He keyed another channel. "That's it, men, we're out of here."

B Company fell back from the estate towards their staging point. By the time they were 400 meters away, the Challengers brought Operation Falchion to a conclusion by unleashing another salvo of HESH rounds, destroying what remained of the manor.


	9. Reunion

**Tristain Academy of Magic, 2230 hours**

"Not so tough now, are you, you wanker?!"

"Somebody hold him down!"

"You damned peasants! Her Highness will hear of this! She'll make an example of all of you!"

This was the scene that greeted the rest of the Lancastrians, the Hussars, and the rest of the academy as four privates from B Company practically manhandled Count Mott into the academy, his mangled hand bandaged. The units that did not participate in the raid glared at the count with undisguised hatred. They had been briefed on the count's profile, and it came as no surprise when they voiced out their revulsion upon hearing of his infamous reputation for taking female commoners from their homes to satisfy the count's carnal desires.

Everyone watched as the raiding force dragged the fallen noble before Julius, who was calmly smoking a cigarette. The major then walked up to Mott, sizing him up. The students, teaching staff, and the servants took in the whole scene with dread.

Julius gave Mott an icy glare. "Count Mott, your reputation as a sexual offender precedes you," the major declared sarcastically, eliciting a few chuckles from the men gathered around them.

Mott glared back at Julius with cold rage. "Watch your tongue, commoner, you're talking to a noble," he spat out.

The major merely raised an eyebrow at this as he took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke into the count's face. He turned to Travis, who stood silently, his rifle slung.

"Lt. Knight, please tell this man what it means to be a real noble," he said.

Travis strode to the count and lashed out with a jab to the count's abdomen, causing him to double over in pain. "A noble should be kind, responsible, willing to help the people under his rule."

He lashed out again with a kick to Mott's stomach, causing him to regurgitate his dinner and to drop on his knees. "A noble should treat his equals, his superiors, and his subordinates with respect. He must be willing to put the needs of others above his own and must be patient, humble, and considerate to others at all times."

Mott just stared at Travis as he was brought to his feet. He was met with a punch to his jaw. "And most of all, a noble must never overstep his boundaries. He must never abuse any person below him in any way, shape, or form."

Travis grabbed the count by the throat. "But the way I see it, you piece of shit, is that you don't match any of those descriptions I just laid out." He roughly pushed Mott away.

The nobles watched the entire event with fear, knowing that it could have been any of them in Mott's position right now, and the students suddenly found the thought of being on good terms with Louise more appealing. The lieutenant then turned to the assembled nobles, his expression livid.

"Anyone that even thinks of insulting Ms. Vallière will meet the same fate as this so-called noble. Consider this your only warning," he growled.

The nobles could only nod as they looked on in horror.

Travis then turned his attention back to Mott. "Did you sexually harass Siesta during her stay in your manor?" he growled.

The bruised, battered, and bleeding count spluttered in disbelief. "I would never do such a thing! I wouldn't even think of touching a commoner!"

He was immediately met with a kick to his genitals, causing him to cry out in pain.

Julius merely watched the interrogation like it was nothing out of the ordinary. "Siesta, is he telling the truth?" he asked the horrified maid.

Siesta frantically shook her head. "H-he came into my quarters just as I was getting dressed into the uniform he gave me, and he ordered me to sleep with him for the night. He also groped me whenever he had the opportunity!" she sobbed.

Travis unslung his rifle and smashed its stock on Mott's temple. "On your feet, you little shit," he hissed.

The Lancastrians hauled the count on his feet as Travis loaded a magazine in his rifle. "How many more women have you harassed, you motherfucking son of a bitch?!" the lieutenant bellowed, aiming his rifle at the count's torso.

The count just laughed in the enraged lieutenant's face. "What does it even matter to you?" he slurred.

Travis chambered a round. "I won't ask again. How. Many. More. Have you. **_HARASSED?!"_** he roared.

Mott spat in the young officer's face, who wiped the blood off with his sleeve.

Travis shoved his rifle into one of the Lancastrians' arms and grabbed the count's right arm, stretching it as far as he could. With a furious yell, he brought his left elbow down on the count's upper arm, dislocating it. Mott cried out in pain, but Travis wasn't done yet. As the count slumped down to the ground, the lieutenant, blinded by rage, brought his right foot down and stomped on the count's injured hand as hard as he could, eliciting a shriek of pain.

The major spat on the ground. "Tie him up. Get some of the academy's guards to bring him to the royal palace, along with Siesta's statement. Lt. Knight, take your platoon and provide escort detail for the guards. And see about getting those suits of armor for marksmanship training."

Travis glared at the count, retrieving his rifle. "Burn in hell, you son of a bitch."

 **Tristain Academy of Magic, 0902 hours**

The events from last night were still fresh in everyone's minds. The level of violence that the Lancastrians had displayed were unlike anything they had ever witnessed. A raid at the ruins of Mott's estate had yielded some surprisingly intact documents which stated that the former count had ties with a group of arms smugglers, leading to Mott's official arrest.

Julius stood in Louise's room as the mage paced around, stress evident on her face. "So, what is it that you wanted to talk about?" the major asked.

"I've been so focused on learning how your army functions that I completely forgot about the familiar exhibition that's taking place two days from now," the mage fretted.

Julius hummed in thought. "What's this exhibition about?"

Louise slumped down on her bed, practically distraught. "Every year the campus holds an exhibition in order to showcase the talents of the familiars that all second-year mages summon."

"I assume that this exhibition is mandatory?" Julius took out his canteen and took a swig of water. "If it is, then you should have asked. I happen to be a good musician back in my day."

Louise's eyes widened at the major's words. "You can sing?" she asked excitedly.

Julius simply grinned. "I can sing _and_ play the guitar," he confidently said. "I already have a song in mind, but that'll have to wait until the exhibition. It's one of my favorites."

"I'm looking forward to your performance, Julius," Louise declared.

 **Tristain Academy of Magic, 2231 hours**

"Professor Colbert, I heard that you're reassigning the guards from the vault to the gate," Longueville said.

The bespectacled professor scratched the back of his head. "We didn't have time to arrange proper security measures, we're undermanned as it is," he replied.

Longueville paced back in forth. "I heard rumors that Fouquet of the Crumbling Earth is after the contents of this vault," she adjusted her glasses.

"I don't think that any thief, including Fouquet, would be brazen enough to attempt a heist when the royal guards are around. Even a triangle-class mage would be hard-pressed to break into the vault. This is the perfect chance for the academy's guards to show that they're competent in performing their duties," Colbert dismissed Longueville's concerns.

"Hopefully you're right about this, Professor Colbert," the green-haired secretary mumbled.

 **Tristain Academy of Magic, 1000 hours**

Two ornate carriages, followed by a squadron of horsemen, slowed to a stop before the doors of the academy's main building, with the students looking on. Two platoons of Lancastrians were having a surprisingly easy task of keeping the crowd in check, in part due to their weapons but mostly due to the events from the previous night. As it stands, none of the students dared to risk the wrath of the soldiers.

Two of the academy's servants rushed to the carriage in the rear, opening the door and helping the nation's monarch, Henrietta de Tristain, dismount. The princess had been briefed on the presence of the Lancastrians and Hussars, and as such she only spared them a momentary glance as she approached Osmond and the teaching staff, followed by her royal bodyguard.

Osmond and the others immediately knelt before the princess as the latter spoke. "Headmaster Osmond, my apologies for such a selfish request, and on short notice, too."

Osmond merely waved off her apology. "Please, Your Highness, the entire academy has been eagerly awaiting your arrival," the elderly mage assured the princess.

Henrietta's face broke into a smile. "This is the only year where I would like to observe the familiar exhibition in person," she sighed.

The headmaster glanced at the princess in confusion. "May I know why, Your Highness?"

The princess merely giggled. "It's a personal reason, headmaster. Very personal."

 **Tristain Academy of Magic, 2241 hours**

" _How many wasted lives? How many dreams did fade away? Broken promises, they won't be coming home._

" _Oh mothers, wipe your tears, your sons will rest a million years._

" _Found their peace at last as foe turned to friend and forgave._

" _And they knew they would die._

" _Gallipoli._

" _Left their letters in the sand._

" _Such waste of life._

" _Gallipoli._

" _Dreams of freedom turned to dust."_

As Julius played the last few chords of the song, "Cliffs of Gallipoli" by Sabaton, on the guitar he had borrowed from Nathan for the exhibition, Louise couldn't help but shed a few tears, for she had never heard of this kind of music from the major's world. As the last chord died down, a knock sounded on the door.

"Now, who could be visiting at this late of an hour?" Louise wondered as Julius set down the guitar and answered the door. A cloaked figure rushed in and closed the door, surprising both occupants.

"Who are you?!"/"Identify yourself!" both mage and officer shouted at the same time, with Julius pulling out his pistol.

The figure then spoke. "It sure has been a while, hasn't it?" the voice shocked Louise. She knew that voice all too well. And before Julius knew it, the figure then threw off her cloak and was embracing Louise like a someone she had not seen for years. "Louise Françoise, I've missed you so much."

Julius blinked in shock as the figure revealed herself. "W-wait, wait, Your Highness?" the major stammered.

Louise broke out of the embrace and knelt down. "Your Highness, please forgive me, but this humble place isn't worthy of your presence," she said, humbled by the arrival of the princess.

Julius sighed, holstering his pistol as Henrietta smiled and responded. "Please, Louise Françoise, no formalities when it's just the two of us. We've been friends for years, so it's alright."

Louise looked up at the princess with reverence. "I don't deserve such kind words, Your Highness," she gushed.

Julius stared in confusion. "I guess you weren't kidding when you said that you know each other," he mused.

Louise nodded as she turned to Julius. "I had the honor of being her companion ever since we were little," she smiled at the major.

Tears welled up in Henrietta's eyes. "I actually consider the two of us as childhood friends. You have no idea how long I've waited to see you."

Louise shot to her feet in concern. "Your Highness, why are you crying?" she asked in a worried tone.

The princess dabbed at her tears. "My apologies, Louise, it just pains me that I have no one that I can openly talk to, not since my father's demise," she confessed.

Louise gazed at the princess with a melancholic expression. "I was surprised when I heard the news, Your Highness."

Julius checked his watch as Henrietta turned to him. "You must be Louise's familiar," she said.

The major simply nodded. "Maj. Julius Sickles, 2nd Battalion, Duke of Lancaster's Regiment. It's an honor, Your Highness," he responded crisply.

The princess gazed curiously at the major, who adjusted his rifle's sling. "Were you the one who stood up to that arrogant Mott?" she asked.

Julius grunted in affirmation. "That's correct, Your Highness. I was the one who came up with Operation Falchion," he stated.

The two nobles blinked in confusion. "Operation Falchion?" Henrietta repeated, puzzled.

"It's the code name for the rescue operation I ordered to be carried out last night," Julius chuckled.

Henrietta's eyes widened as she realized what the major meant. "Ah, yes, that. I wanted to meet you from the time when I learned of your operation. I've been wanting to know all about the person who went up against a nobleman," she said.

Louise gasped at the revelation. "You knew about his attack on the manor?" she asked.

Henrietta smiled. "I have eyes and ears everywhere, and it caused quite the commotion when I got entangled into it. But after receiving the testament of the academy's servant who got taken away from here, along with the discovery of Mott's ties with smugglers, I can tell you that your familiar's actions were legitimate. There will be no punishment for him."

Louise gaped in shock, while Julius was unperturbed. "Your Highness…" she trailed off.

The princess giggled. "Please remember, Louise, that I swore long ago to help you whenever you're in a bind. And as a princess, it is my duty to keep my word," she reminded her.

Louise felt her eyes moisten. "Your Highness, how can I ever repay you?" she asked.

Henrietta took Louise's hands in hers. "Louise, you've managed to summon an intelligent and magnificent familiar," she said.

Louise beamed at those words. "Thank you, Your Highness," she breathed out.

The two friends wrapped up their visit and Louise walked Henrietta to her door.

"I never had this much fun for quite a long time. Thank you for making this happen, Louise Françoise," Henrietta wrapped her arms around Louise.

The mage, for her part, blushed and returned the embrace. "Likewise, Your Highness," she whispered.

Henrietta then turned to Julius, who watched the scene before him. "Sir Julius, please do your best at the exhibition tomorrow," she requested.

The major nodded in assent. "Understood, Your Highness," he responded.

The princess turned to leave. "The best form of freedom, after all, is pleasure. Good night to both of you."

"Goodbye, Your Highness,"/"Likewise, Your Highness," Louise and Julius replied.


	10. Sculptor

**Tristain Academy of Magic, 0800 hours**

Julius finished tuning the guitar that he would use for his act. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves as he glanced around at the area where the familiars and their masters were gathered. Among those present were Kirche with her fire salamander, Flame; Malicorne with his owl, Cubasil; Montmorency with her frog, Robin; and Tabitha with her rhythm dragon, Sylphid. Unsurprisingly, Guiche was not present, as he was still recovering from his duel four days ago.

His battalion busied themselves with finding good vantage points from which they could watch the exhibition and keep an eye for any potential threats to everyone present. The Hussars had started up their tanks in order to be able to respond immediately to any threat that could arise. Little did everyone know that that threat would originate from within the academy's teaching staff.

After an hour, the exhibition finally began, with the first few acts being somewhat unimpressive until Kirche's familiar got the crowd cheering for its fire-breathing. The cheers got even louder as Tabitha and Sylphid put on an air show for the audience.

Finally, it was time for Julius to perform his act. He and Louise walked onstage, with the guitar in his hand and his rifle slung across his back. As he scanned the crowd, Louise introduced Julius to the crowd.

"Maj. Julius Sickles, of 2nd Battalion, Duke of Lancaster's Regiment," she proudly announced. The crowd fell silent as Louise exited the stage. As soon as she was out of sight, Julius spoke up.

"This is a song from my world. It's about a war to retake our far-flung territory that was invaded, where its people are predominantly from the same nation as us. It tells of the sacrifice that our ancestors made. The song is called "Back in Control," from a group of musicians called Sabaton."

As he started to play, his mind shifted to his father, who took part in the Battle of Mount Tumbledown as a Guardsman of the Scots Guards in the Falklands War.

" _Sent to the islands to secure what is ours._

" _Marching ashore in the cover of night._

 _Hide until dawn and attack in the twilight._

 _Shake them awake with the thunder of guns."_

The nobles watched on, fascinated by the story that the song conveyed. Some of the Lancastrians who were near the stage fought back tears, as they had relatives who died in the campaign to retake the Falklands.

" _Orders from the iron maiden: get the islands back._

" _Failure will not be accepted, call for artillery strike, launch attack."_

Lionel looked on, nearly overcome with sadness. His uncle was among the dead as his ship, HMS _Coventry,_ had been sunk by an Exocet anti-ship missile fired from an Argentine strike aircraft.

" _We are back in control, force them to surrender._

 _Take what is ours, restore law and order._

 _Back in control, push them further out to sea._

 _Falklands in our hands, back under British reign."_

Some of the nobles glanced at Michael, who leaned against the courtyard's wall, a somber expression on his face. His father, a commando from the 29th Commando Regiment, was among the wounded at the Battle of Goose Green.

The crowd was stunned as Julius continued his performance, the lyrics of the song resonating within their minds. They could not imagine fighting a type of war that was way more advanced and efficient than Halkeginia has witnessed so far. Ships so large that they could fit a hundred dragons in them, flying contraptions capable of reaching unimaginable speeds, and messages that could be sent and received instantly without the need for a runner. It was too much for them to take in.

As Julius finished his performance, the crowd erupted in cheers. Henrietta's shocked expression was all it took to name him as the winner of the exhibition, much to the delight of an ecstatic Louise.

Suddenly, the ground shook underneath them, and as soon as Julius jumped off the stage, his comms lit up.

" _What the fuck is that thing?!"_

" _All units take that thing down!"_

" _Contact! Contact!"_

" _Broadsword Actual to Broadsword 1-1, keep that thing's focus on us! Broadswords 2-1 and 3-1, flank that bastard! Go! Go! Go!"_

" _Light up that son of a bitch now! Now!"_

The major regrouped with the others, who quickly briefed him on the situation. Small arms fire erupted throughout the academy as everyone fled the scene.

Right in front of them was a stone golem, sixty-five feet in height, with the wall in front of it in ruins. A hooded figure jumped from the damaged section of the wall and onto the golem's shoulder, clutching a large box in her hands.

Kirche and Tabitha immediately jumped into action, with the former working with her salamander to burn the golem down, and the latter launching an air assault onboard her dragon.

Julius saw Louise standing in a state of shock. He ran to her and shook her out of her stupor.

"Louise! Get out of here now!" the major shouted as his entire battalion lit up the golem with everything they had.

"But sir Julius – " the mage started to protest.

"Let us handle this one! Get out of here right the fuck now!" Julius barked.

Reluctantly, Louise obeyed the major's order as she linked up with the other nobles at the other side of the academy. The nobles watched as the Lancastrians continued to engage the golem, which was now retreating from the academy. A Challenger II narrowly managed to avoid getting crushed by the golem, and as soon as it was far enough at a safe distance, the Hussars fired a salvo of HESH rounds, instantly taking down the golem. By some miracle, the hooded figure riding it managed to survive, although heavily injured.

Two platoons from A Company rushed to the hooded figure's location, with some of the nobles following close behind. Upon catching up to the platoons on site, they froze in shock as they saw who the hooded figure was.

It was none other than the academy's secretary, Longueville.

"Ms. Longueville?! Ms. Longuville and Fouquet are one and the same?!" a noble gasped at the revelation.

"How did we not see this coming?" another noble questioned.

A medic checked Longueville's body for a pulse, and upon finding a weak one, he signaled the other soldiers to help him move her back into the academy, where they could give her first aid. The platoons also retrieved the box in her possession and presented it to Julius, who took a look inside.

This time, it was the Lancastrians who were in for a surprise.

"Can someone please tell me how exactly an M72 managed to end up in this world?" he wondered aloud.

Colbert and Osmond approached Julius, who was holding the M72 light antitank weapon in his hands. "Sir Julius, thank goodness that you managed to recover the Staff of Destruction," Colbert thanked the major.

Julius blinked in confusion. "Professor Colbert, Headmaster Osmond, you seem to be mistaken about this. You see, this is a weapon called the M72 light antitank weapon. It is a weapon that can destroy enemy vehicles in our world. How did this end up here?"

Osmond stared into the distance. "It happened thirty years ago during a battle with a dragon. It seemed just like yesterday, believe it or not. He saved me from the dragon with the very weapon in your hands right now, and I could only assume that he was a soldier, since he was dressed similarly to you and your men."

The headmaster paused, lowering his head and closing his eyes. "He was heavily injured from battle upon my assessment of him, so I brought him back to the academy. Day and night, I kept him alive for as long as possible. However…" he trailed off.

Julius glanced down at the M72 in his hands. "He paid the ultimate sacrifice," he whispered.

"Unfortunately, yes. I never managed to find out who that man was, where his origins were. He had two of those staves with him, and I placed the staff he used to save me, the one in your hands, alongside his body as we buried him. The second staff was given to the royal palace for safekeeping."

"I can't believe that this is the story behind the staff of destruction," Colbert murmured.

"Would it be possible for us to get the staff from the palace, since it came from our world?" Julius inquired.

Osmond hummed in thought. "I'll have to talk to Her Highness about this and see what she has to say. But I think there's a fair chance that the staff would be given to you," he stated.

The major sighed in relief. "Thank you, sir Osmond."

The headmaster cleared his throat, changing the subject. "Ms. Vallière, Ms. Zerbst, and Ms. d'Orleans, for your efforts in capturing Fouquet, you will be the guests of honor for the academy's banquet in two days. I'm sure that Her Highness will also reward you handsomely for your efforts."

Louise looked on in confusion. "But what about sir Julius and his men? They were the ones who took down Fouquet's golem with ease," she protested.

Osmond sighed in resignation. "I regret to say that sir Julius and his men are not nobles, so I'm afraid that they won't be rewarded for their efforts."

"That won't be necessary, sir Osmond," Julius said, pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket and handing it to the headmaster. "We have more than enough battle honors."

Osmond took the paper and was immediately surprised at the number of honors that the major's regiment had:

Mons

Marne 1914, 18

Aisne 1914, 18

Messines 1914, 17, 18

Ypres 1914, 15, 17, 18

Neuve Chapelle

Loos

Somme 1916, 18

Arras 1917, 18

Scarpe 1917, 18

Cambrai 1917, 18

Lys

Hindenburg Line

Vittorio Veneto

Macedonia

Sari Bair

Gallipoli

Megiddo

Kut al Amara

Baghdad

Kilimanjaro

Dunkirk

Normandy

Falaise

Arnhem

Lower Maas

Ourthe

Reichswald

Habbaniya

Tobruk

Madagascar

Gueriat el Atach Ridge

Sicily

Anzio

Monte Cassino II

Malta

Singapore Island

Chindits 1943

North Arakan

Chindits 1944

Imphal

Kohima

Nyaungu Bridgehead

Burma

"By Brimir," Osmond gasped, suddenly feeling insignificant. "To think that your unit had participated in all of these battles, this is simply unbelievable."

"I was a soldier once. I have fought in at least ten battles. But more than a dozen?" Colbert added.

Julius smirked as he keyed his comms. "Gentlemen, what do you say that we add Tristain to our list of battle honors?"

 _"Difficulties be damned!"_ his battalion roared their motto enthusiastically.


	11. Partners

**Tristain Academy of Magic, 1232 hours**

It had been two days since the attempted theft of the Staff of Destruction, otherwise known to the British as the M72. The Tristanians were surprised at how quickly and effortlessly the Lancastrians and the Hussars have managed to neutralize Fouquet and her golem, and the fallen noble has been transferred to the Tristanian authorities in exchange for the second LAW that was kept within the palace. Henrietta had ordered a background check on Fouquet, with no conclusive evidence in sight. Security had been strengthened around the royal palace; the 3rd (Gramont) and 17th (Grandpre) Infantry Regiments of the Tristanian Army and the 1st (Clermont-Tonnerre) and 4th (Mortemart) Life Battalions of the Musketeer Knights had been bolstered by the 2nd (Vallière) and 5th (Châteauroux) Life Guards of the Manticore Knights and the 6th (Chateau-Thierry) Life Guards of the Griffin Knights.

The Lancastrians and the Hussars, in exchange for keeping the academy safe, had requested a constant stream of supplies in the form of foodstuffs, which had been agreed upon. The British troops did not need to worry about ammunition and fuel, as some of the mages had performed a replenishing spell on their weapons and vehicles, although Julius still reminded his men to be conservative in using their equipment.

Julius sighed as he, Lionel, Daniel, and Capt. Christian Green of C Company, 2nd Battalion revamped their patrol schedule and areas with their platoon commanders in the wake of the attack on the academy. Tonight was when Louise, Kirche, and Tabitha would be recognized by the academy for their part in stopping Fouquet after several months at large. The ceremony would be held within the academy's ballroom on the third floor, so all areas near the ballroom were to be guarded by two platoons from A Company, with the rest of A Company and the entirety of B Company on high alert if the situation gets ugly.

Once the meeting was over, the four officers made small talk.

"So, Capt. Graham, how has Siesta been doing?" Christian asked, his Glaswegian accent evident.

Daniel just shrugged. "Eh, she's still shaken, but she's recovering. I mean, being forced to work someplace against your will and witnessing our capabilities after we rescued her from that hellhole of a manor will do that to anyone. Well, anyone that's from around these parts."

The two other captains grunted in assent; whether one is from Earth of Halkeginia, some things never changed. "What about the others? The students and the staff, how are they?" Julius asked his subordinates.

"They're handling it pretty well, surprisingly," Lionel answered. "Shaken up like Siesta, but they managed to brush it off after a few hours, although I must say that they've been curious, the lot of them."

The major took out his cigarette pack and was about to light a cigarette when a new voice joined in.

"I gotta say, partner, that was quite the spectacle you and your men made when you dealt with Fouquet."

The four officers turned around, searching for the voice, but no one was within sight.

"Yeah, I'm talking to you. I'm strapped to your back," the voice said again, causing Julius to nearly drop his lighter and cigarette. He quickly stowed both items and unsheathed the longsword strapped on his back.

The four officers were astonished to find a talking _sword,_ of all things. They could only gape at the spectacle before them until Daniel broke the silence.

"I'm not drunk enough for this bullshit," he muttered. "A talking, living sword? Major, are we sure we didn't eat any mushrooms this morning?"

The sword clanked a few times before speaking. "Do you fellows have any idea how awful it was to be stuck in that armory for two months? I had to put up with the owner's nonsense for that long, and let me tell you, it was not fun," the sword huffed in annoyance.

Julius blinked a few times before he found his voice. "Now I've seen everything," he said. "Dragons, magic, an alternate world, and a talking sword." He shook his head in disbelief.

"Not just a talking sword, partner. I am the legendary Derflinger, forged by the first Gandálfr in Halkeginian history," the sword laughed. "Hopefully we'll be able to work together, umm… you have a rank, right?"

Julius just sighed in resignation. "Yes, the rank is major, although given the fact that we're not in our world anymore I doubt that it still matters," he said as he sheathed the sword and lit his cigarette, taking a drag to calm his nerves. He then turned to his three captains and dismissed them.

The three company commanders mulled over the recent turn of events as they walked back to grab something to eat at Alvis Hall. Needless to say, the whole thing made them awkward.

"Well… that happened," Christian quipped, scratching his head as the trio entered the dining hall, turning several heads in the process. "I need something strong to deal with this."

"What Green said," Lionel muttered as they found an empty area next to Louise, who had just started her meal.

The mage looked up to see the three officers sit down around her in various states of confusion and disbelief, with Christian's appearance piquing her curiosity.

"Sir Lionel, sir Daniel, good afternoon," she greeted them, frowning when they absently returned her greeting. "Is something the matter?"

Lionel shrugged and glanced outside. "No, we were just discussing the security arrangements for tonight," he replied, as a waiter placed down platters of food before the men. "We can't have another infiltration occur in this place."

"Especially not on this day, when that particular infiltrator might have contacts all around the place. We can't be too careful wherever we are," Christian added between bites of his stew. "I believe we haven't been introduced to each other. Capt. Christian Green, C Company, 2nd Battalion. A pleasure, Ms. Vallière."

Louise returned the greeting. "Likewise, sir Christian. Will you be attending the ball tonight?"

Christian took a sip of his wine. "I'm afraid that I can't be present, Ms. Vallière, as I have been instructed by Maj. Sickles to keep an eye out for any trouble that may arise, although from what I've gathered, the major himself will be there."

The pink-haired mage thought this over for a moment as she ate her meal before a new voice joined in, which dampened the atmosphere around them.

"Louise, I didn't expect you to be the sort of person who chases after boys as well," Kirche remarked, causing Louise to scowl and turn her head towards the Germanian redhead. Not surprisingly, Tabitha was with her, her head buried in a book.

Before she could answer, Daniel spoke up in an eerily calm voice. "Ms. Zerbst, I'm sure you'd want to choose your next words carefully. It would be regrettable if another noble meets the same fate that Mott did." This caused Kirche to pause in her attempt to rile up her rival as the three company commanders stared at her in annoyance while drawing the attention of a few nobles.

The redhead mage chuckled nervously. "I was just surprised that an archrival of mine is as interested in the same thing as I am, not that – "

"That'll be enough of that, Kirche. I'm sure that you heard what Lt. Knight said a few a nights ago. Do I have to remind you of that?" Christian snarled.

"Don't think that I would forget your attempt to disrupt my patrol when that damned lizard of yours dragged me into your room," another voice cut in.

The three captains, as well as the mages, turned to see Michael and his section striding towards them. They saluted their captains, who responded in kind before Daniel turned his attention to the corporal.

"Am I hearing it right? She disrupted your patrol?" Daniel asked.

Michael nodded. "I was conducting my patrol on the third floor of one of the towers when at around 2000 hours, her lizard dragged me into her room. I rejected her advances before resuming my patrol."

By this time, the three company commanders had gone from annoyed to furious. "Ms. Zerbst, the major would not be pleased to hear of this. I suggest that you start acting like the noble you claim to be, or there will be consequences," Lionel glared at the redhead.

"Y-yes, sir," Kirche gulped nervously. Beside her, Tabitha merely glanced at her companion before elbowing her.

"Apologize," she said in her usual monotone voice.

All of the nobles in the dining hall now had their attention on the scene before them, being witnesses to a rare sight: Kirche receiving a harsh rebuke.

"I-I-I-I'm sorry, sirs, Louise," Kirche stammered. The Lancastrians glared at her for a moment, giving her a once-over. Needless to say, they were not impressed by what they saw.

"Get out of our sight," Lionel hissed, and immediately Kirche skittered out, with Tabitha close behind.

The other nobles quickly got the hint and went back to their meals.

"So, what brings you here, corporal?" Daniel asked.

Michael merely shrugged. "Another supply run, sir, platoon's running low."

"Sir, are you sure it's not because you want to see Siesta?" Thomas snickered.

The corporal just gave Thomas a flat stare. "Thank you for volunteering yourself and the rest of the section for a beasting session once we get back, lance corporal," he deadpanned.

The entire section tensed up in dread. "Oh, bollocks," Thomas groaned.

 **Academy Ballroom, 1915 hours**

The 1st and 2nd Platoons of A Company glanced around them as they socialized with the students, who had worn their best clothes for the night. The more curious nobles asked the Lancastrians about their unit, which the British obliged. Off to the buffet section, Tabitha busied herself with filling her platter while Kirche sat at their table, enjoying the attention of a few male nobles.

Julius stood at the balcony, his rifle loaded but with the safety on, conversing with Lionel and Travis as the units assigned to guard the ballroom updated him on the situation every fifteen minutes. The lieutenant, for his part, was just as shocked to discover that the sword he had picked up from the armory in the capital was sentient.

"Why the seriousness, boys? This is a night for merrymaking, are you sure you don't want to join them?" Derflinger asked the three officers.

Julius shook his head. "We can't, after what happened two days ago. Besides, we had this planned since morning."

"Major, as much as I hate to admit it, the sword has a point," Travis said. "You go and loosen up, sir, we'll take over on this one."

Julius hummed in thought before he relented and handed the longsword to Lionel. "Alright, but only for thirty minutes. Bristol, take charge for the meantime."

Lionel nodded, and Julius walked back inside to observe the room. It was spacious and brightly lit, with the tables situated by the walls, leaving room in the center for the students to dance.

A trumpet blared out a fanfare before a herald announced Louise's arrival. She wore a bright pink gown, and had her hair tied in a ponytail. Some of the male students nervously asked her to be their dance partners, only to be ignored by the pink-haired mage as she made her way towards Julius. The major adjusted the sling of his rifle so that it was hanging across his back.

He bowed and held out his hand to Louise. "Ms. Vallière, may I have this dance?" he asked. Nodding in approval, she took his hand, and he led her to the dance floor, where other students were gathered as waltz music began to play.

"The Staff of Destruction… it really is from your world, isn't it?" Louise said as they were halfway through the song.

Julius nodded. "The M72 is a weapon designed to take out tanks, the steel carriages that came with us when we were summoned. As powerful as it is, more advanced weapons can do the job more effectively, and at longer ranges. As a result, newer ways of protecting our tanks are being researched, and the cycle continues," he explained.

"I see," Louise mulled over the major's words. "You want to return to your world, don't you?"

"Well, if we had a choice, we could. We still have a duty to serve our nation," Julius replied. At this, the mage's face fell.

"Until then, however," he continued, "we're establishing the academy as our forward operating base. If that's what it takes for us to get back home, then so be it."

Louise looked up in puzzlement. She could not comprehend the major's words. "But why?" she asked.

Julius paused for a moment before he answered. "We're partners, Louise. Until we manage to find a way to get back home, we'll be your partners."


	12. Rivals

**Alvis Hall, 0702 hours**

"A letter?" Louise raised her eyebrow before she took another spoonful of soup.

"Yes, my lady, from her royal highness," a servant bowed as he gave her the letter in question before stepping back. "By your leave, my lady," he bowed.

"Thank you, you may return to your duties," the mage dismissed him before opening the letter. Upon reading it, her eyes widened in excitement.

"Sir Julius, I'll need to speak with you after breakfast, if it's alright," she addressed the major, who, along with his company commanders, was seated with her and getting some breakfast. All four officers did not bother turning in their weapons to their men for safekeeping.

"What is this about?" Julius asked as he bit into a piece of bread. Lionel, Daniel, and Christian continued on with their meal, listening for anything of significance.

"I can't tell you with anyone else listening, could you meet me outside the academy after this?" she asked as she folded the letter and placed it back into the envelope. The major took a sip of his wine before he answered.

"Alright. Would it be fine if I bring my company commanders with me?" Julius inquired. "This could be something that they might need to know."

The mage paused for a moment before she made her decision. "Yes, have them come along as well," she said.

Louise and the officers quickly finished their meal and filed out of the dining hall. Since it was the weekend, there was not much to do. Before the quintet made it halfway through, however, a voice stopped them in their tracks, causing the mage to huff in frustration and the three company commanders to curse, leaving Julius befuddled.

"Oh Louise, going out for a stroll with so many handsome men? Would you save some for me?" Kirche smirked. The pink-haired mage turned around and glared at her archrival.

"What do you want, you Germanian harlot?" Louise snapped. Behind her, Daniel cracked his knuckles as Lionel and Christian stepped forward to flank her, their rifles' safeties flicked off.

"Ms. Zerbst, I think we've made it absolutely clear that any affront to Ms. Vallière here would result in unpleasant consequences for all of us. So before something regrettable happens," Lionel loaded a magazine and chambered a round. "I suggest you leave us."

"But" – Kirche started to protest, but she was cut off.

"Should I inform our CO here about what you did to Cpl. Holstein a few nights ago?" Daniel snarled.

Julius stepped in before the situation spiraled out of control. "What's all this about, gents?" he demanded.

Daniel turned to face his battalion commander. "Sir, you remember that night when we had our first patrol? Yeah, Zerbst here tried to disrupt Holstein's rotation and tried to get him to sleep with her."

Julius narrowed his eyes at this. "Louise, is this true?" he asked.

"I was woken up by a noise, so I went outside to see what it was about. I saw one of your subordinates leaving that cow's room, and he was angry at having his patrol interrupted, as sir Daniel said," Louise bitterly spat out, the venom in her tone audible.

The major turned to Kirche and strode towards her, stopping right in front of her.

"Zerbst, is it?" Julius loomed over Kirche, flexing his fingers before the redhead, who had suddenly found herself unable to move.

"Y-y-yes, sir," the Germanian stammered. Julius paced around her as he spoke again.

"I will have my subordinates report any incident of you trying to disrupt their patrol the same way you did with Cpl. Holstein. And the moment I receive any report of any such incident, I will have Professor Colbert and the headmaster notified of this, and they will hand out any punishment I deem appropriate. **AM I UNDERSTOOD?!"** Kirche flinched as Julius suddenly screamed into her face.

"U-understood," Kirche managed to squeak out. The major glared at her for a few more seconds before ordering her to leave.

There was a pause as all five watched Kirche hurry away before Julius broke the silence.

"Is there some history between you two?" he asked.

Louise took a deep breath before answering. "My family, the Vallières, and her family, the Zerbsts, have been rivals for generations. It would be a humiliation to have something, anything a Vallière owns get taken by a Zerbst," Louise ground out.

"No wonder Holstein's still pissed at her," Christian said.

"I mean, with an attitude like that, who wouldn't be?" Lionel chimed in.

"Quite the bitch and a half, if you ask me," Daniel grumbled.

"This reminds me of the Hatfields and the McCoys," Julius mused.

"Good catch there, sir," Christian chuckled.

The mage and the officers continued on their way outside the academy. As soon as they came to a stop beside one of the Challenger IIs, where its crew was conducting preventive maintenance checks and services, Louise spoke up.

"I received a summons from Princess Henrietta," Louise informed the officers. "She wants to see us at the royal palace tomorrow afternoon."

"Any idea why?" Daniel asked as he took out a cigarette from his cigarette pack and lit it.

Louise just shrugged. "I don't know why, but it must be something important. I just hope that it's nothing serious."

Julius digested this bit of information for a moment as he leaned back on the Challenger.

"Bristol, get Lt. Knight's platoon on the line, we need an escort detail," he ordered. "I want them presentable before her highness. Green, I want you to coordinate with Maj. Hudson and get one of his troops to give us some transport to the palace."

"Major, I'll handle this one," a voice cut in. Louise and the officers turned to see a Hussar standing before them.

The Hussar promptly saluted the Lancastrians, who returned the gesture. "Capt. Francis Fuller, C Squadron," he introduced himself.

"Maj. Julius Sickles. These are my company commanders, Capt. Bristol of A Company, Capt. Graham of B Company, and Capt. Green of C Company. Before I forget, I'd also like to introduce you to Ms. Vallière, the person who brought us here," Julius responded.

"A pleasure, sir. How did last night's ball go?" Francis inquired.

Julius crossed his arms. "It went perfectly well, thankfully. No hiccups whatsoever. Could you get the transport detail cleared with Maj. Hudson?" he asked.

"I'll see what I can do, Major," Francis saluted once more before being dismissed.

Louise watched the whole exchange between the officers before addressing the major.

"Sir Julius, I shall let you see to your men for the day. I'll meet you tomorrow after breakfast, then we'll make our preparations. I must attend to my studies," the young mage said.

Julius nodded. "Very well, see you at lunch," he replied.

 **Tristain Academy of Magic, 1733 hours**

"Cease fire!" Travis hollered. As his platoon sergeant walked up to the suits of armor that were used for target practice to check each of his platoon member's grouping, he went over the orders that he had received from Julius earlier on the day. His platoon, along with five tanks, had been tasked with providing escort for Louise to the royal palace on the next day. Needless to say, preparations were being made in order to ensure that everything proceeded as planned.

He took a swig from his water canteen as he watched his platoon wrap up their live-fire exercise for the day before he called them for final formation and safety brief.

"Alright, listen up, gents," he began once his platoon was assembled. "We're gonna be meeting with royalty tomorrow; yes, that means that we'll be seeing her highness, so I expect you all to conduct yourselves professionally. The last thing this battalion needs is to get involved in some kind of scandal, so help me God, if any one of you ever fucks up on this one, I'll put my boot so far up your collective asses that you'll be tasting sweaty socks and salty feet. Understood?"

There was a collective chuckle as his platoon responded in the affirmative. Travis allowed himself a small smirk before continuing.

"One last thing before you leave. Don't drink and ride, don't smoke and fly, don't swim when you're high. Don't do anything that'll end up getting you in the local prison. If you do end up in one, make sure you contact your section leader and establish dominance quickly. If you're planning on heading out to the local brothel, for the love of all that is holy, wrap it before you tap it. Lastly, remember that lights out is at 2300 hours. Platoon, ten-hut!"

Forty-five pairs of boots clicked in unison as 1st Platoon stood ramrod straight. Travis swept his eyes over them for a moment before he dismissed his men.

"Fall out!" he barked. His men linked up with the rest of his company in the courtyard. Travis turned around and made his way to Alvis Hall for dinner with the rest of the platoon commanders. Even in this world, rank had its privileges.


	13. Henrietta

**Reconquista Command Center, Londinium, 1544 hours**

William Grenville, Earl of Bath and commander of the 21st Regiment of Foot, strode into Reconquista's headquarters with a grim expression on his face. He had just received disturbing news from Reconquista's spies in Tristain, and quickly grasping the gravity of the situation, he had ridden on his dragon with all possible speed from his command post in Newcastle to Reconquista's de facto capital, where the rest of Reconquista's high-ranking members have gathered to map out a battle plan against the royalist forces under James I, House of Tudor, and to take the royalist stronghold as soon as possible, putting an end to the Albionian Civil War.

Grenville knocked three times on the door of the conference room, where the meeting was being held, before letting himself inside. Bowing before the gathered nobles, he turned to the leader of the group.

"Your Highness, please forgive my intrusion, but I bring grave news from our spies in Tristain," Grenville began, before withdrawing a scroll from his tunic and presenting it to his leader.

Oliver Cromwell, Lord Protector and grand leader of Reconquista, took the scroll and unrolled it, taking his time to read the report. After a moment, he turned to his subordinates.

"Fouquet has been captured by soldiers of unknown origin," he began. "They possess weapons far more powerful than what anyone has witnessed so far. This is a clear sign of heresy, one that Brimir would not allow to pass."

He turned to one of the nobles in the room. "Viscount Wardes, what else have your spies been able to discover?"

Jean-Jacques Francis de Wardes, a man in his mid-thirties with long gray hair and beard, spoke up.

"These soldiers are believed to be under the command of one of the student's familiars. My fiancée, Louise Vallière, turns out to be a void mage."

Cromwell's eyes widened at this revelation. "A void mage, you say? She will be useful in our campaign against the elves. Together with the Ring of Andvari, total victory will be at hand, and we will soon reclaim the holy land from those heretics."

The Lord Protector glared at Wardes. "Viscount, I want you to retrieve Fouquet from Tristain's dungeons. I need everyone present for the fall of the Tudors."

Wardes smirked. "It shall be done, Your Highness. Long live Reconquista."

 **Tristanian Countryside, 1302 hours**

Louise spurred her horse on towards the royal palace, the seat of the Tristanian government. Behind her, 1st Platoon, A Company, riding onboard five Challenger IIs from B Troop, glanced around them, surveying the surrounding area for threats; despite the technological supremacy that they possess, Julius had ordered them to stay alert before leaving the academy. He did not want his men and the Hussars to be caught off guard in the wake of Fouquet's attack during the familiar exhibition.

Two klicks away from the palace, Louise slowed her horse down to a stop, as did the Challengers, allowing Julius and the Lancastrians to disembark. The platoon then proceeded to the palace on foot while the Hussars pulled over to the side of the road to conceal their tanks using whatever vegetation they could find. As the platoon followed Louise, who rode on horseback, Travis took the moment to address his platoon.

"Just a reminder, lads. Don't get any funny ideas in front of her highness. I'm looking at you, Brunswick!" He glared at the man in question.

Private Carl Brunswick, 1st Platoon's resident troublemaker, just winked at Travis as the rest of the platoon snickered at the aforementioned private's expense.

"You won't hear a thing from me, lieutenant. I don't see how I could get in trouble right now, of all times," Carl smirked.

"Getting flat-out drunk, stripping nude in public, and engaging in a brawl at the local pub all at the same night would say otherwise, Private, so I don't wanna hear it from you," Travis snapped. At this, the platoon jeered at Carl, who just took it in stride.

"Ah, yes, I remember that one. Fun times," he remarked with what could only be described as a shit-eating grin on his face, causing the platoon to chuckle yet again and his platoon sergeant to smack him upside the head.

"Shut the fuck up, Carl," the platoon sergeant hissed into Carl's ear.

Carl rubbed the back of his head. "Aye, sarge, shutting up now."

The lieutenant, for his part, just shook his head and turned his attention to the road ahead. "Fuck my life," he muttered, his palm meeting his face.

Louise couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Sir Julius, am I hearing things right?" she asked, flabbergasted.

Julius just sighed. "He's one of the few troublemakers we have in our battalion, but he knows when it's time to get serious," he said. "Lt. Knight did make sure that he'd administer correctional training to the entire platoon if one of them manages to mess up, and let me tell you, his methods are… let's just say that whoever's on the receiving end of his training will feel sore for the next two days. Isn't that right, lieutenant?"

Travis let out a long-suffering groan. "I already told the lads what would happen once someone screws up. Suffice to say that they got the message, especially Brunswick here."

Julius barely managed to stop himself from bursting out laughing at his lieutenant's expression as Louise scowled at the major and the platoon.

"Remind me again why I'm stuck with you and your men, sir Julius?" the mage huffed exasperatedly.

Julius just merely shrugged. "Maybe it's because we're the most powerful force anyone has seen in this world? You tell me," he snarked.

Louise sighed. "Brimir help me," she moaned.

 **Tristanian Royal Palace, 1325 hours**

Upon arriving at the palace, with the Lancastrians marching in parade formation behind Louise, 1st Platoon halted and formed up, with Henrietta I curiously inspecting the men. Julius guided the princess throughout the inspection, answering any questions she asked. After a few minutes, the platoon was ordered to stand by, with fraternization with their Tristanian counterparts being kept at a minimum in order to maintain a semblance of professionalism.

Inside the palace, the princess, the mage, and the officer exchanged pleasantries, with Lionel keeping watch a few feet behind Julius.

"Thank you for accepting my invitation to come to the palace, Louise Françoise, sir Julius," Henrietta stated. Louise managed to maintain an air of dignity as she kept her excitement in check, coming face to face with her friend. Julius, meanwhile, stood at attention beside the mage, his rifle slung on his shoulder.

"We figured that you needed us for something important, your highness, so we couldn't simply refuse your summons," Louise replied.

Henrietta nodded, standing up from her throne. "As a matter of fact, yes, this is important. Louise, sir Julius, I would like to thank you both."

Confused, Louise and Julius glanced at each other before turning towards Henrietta, who closed the distance between them.

"Louise Françoise, in recognition for your efforts in stopping Fouquet after several months at large, it is my honor to bestow upon you the title of Chevalier. Congratulations, and well done," the princess said, surprising both the mage and the officer.

Louise stared open-mouthed at the princess, utterly dumbstruck by what she had just heard.

"Louise, you'll catch flies in your mouth," Julius hissed. The pink-haired mage quickly recovered as she addressed the princess.

"Thank you, your highness, but I don't deserve the honor of such a prestigious title. After all, I didn't do anything to help in capturing her, it was sir Julius and his men who had done it," Louise blurted out.

The princess merely smiled. "Please remember that your familiar is an extension of you. And as such, I can say that your familiar's actions have made you worthy of the title," she said, causing Louise to blush.

Henrietta then turned her attention to Julius. "I would like to thank you as well, sir Julius. You and your men have done an excellent job of neutralizing Fouquet," she beamed at him.

The major bowed, tightly gripping his sling to keep his rifle in place. "I just did what I had to do in order to ensure the safety of everyone during the attack on the academy. We wouldn't know what would have happened if we had allowed her to escape with the M72, or the Staff of Destruction, as you call it," Julius replied.

Henrietta nodded in agreement and held out her hand. "I do hope that you will continue to protect my dearest friend in the days to come. Can I count on you on that one?"

Julius took the princess's hand, leaning down to kiss it.

"Your highness, the Duke of Lancaster's Regiment and the King's Royal Hussars are always ready to protect her. If anyone wants to cause her any harm, they'll have to get through us."

He turned to Louise. "You've seen what we're capable of. Our army is one of the best in our world, we've seen many battles. Trust me when I say this, we're professionals at what we do."

"Seven hundred and fifty men, plus eighteen tanks. I can't see how anyone could take on an entire battalion with armored support and come out alive, let alone unscathed," Lionel added.

Julius chuckled. "British firepower at its finest."

Henrietta then cleared her throat. "There is one other reason why I called you here, Louise Françoise. I want you to head to Charleroi in the southeast. I have heard rumors about nobles abusing their power there. I made an inquiry regarding this, but the local populace there said that the nobles there were treating them fairly and would never mistreat them, going so far as to say that the nobles there were good role models. But after the incident with Count Mott, I highly doubt that what they say is true."

Julius frowned at this piece of information as Henrietta took out a scroll from her coat, passing it to Louise.

"This is an official sanction from the palace. I want you to observe around the town for any signs of abuse. Remember, this is to be done in total secrecy," she ordered.

Louise looked at the scroll, then back to Henrietta.

"You want us to do some espionage in Charleroi for you?" she asked.

Henrietta nodded. "You're the only one I can trust on this, Louise Françoise. This task will be an arduous one," she stated.

Louise looked at her friend and princess straight in the eye, determination written on her face.

"I'll do everything I can to accomplish this, your highness, even if this costs my life," she said with and air of confidence.

Lionel keyed his comms. "Dagger 1 to Broadsword 1-1, come in, over,"

Julius turned to his company commander. "Bristol?" he inquired.

"Reconnaissance, sir," Lionel mouthed.

Julius nodded. "Carry on."

" _Broadsword 1-1 to Dagger 1, reading you five by five, over,"_ Travis responded.

"Dagger 1, you are to prep for infiltration to Charleroi to the southeast once we return to the academy, break. Your task is to root out the nobles who may have been abusing their authority, break. Broadsword 2-1 will set up two klicks northwest of the objective and will provide assistance if things go south, over," Lionel relayed the information.

" _Broadsword 1-1 to Dagger 1, interrogative: what is the duration of this op, and how far is it from the capital, over?"_ Travis inquired.

"Broadsword 1-1, wait one, over." Lionel turned to the trio in front of him. Henrietta and Louise were looking on in confusion as he communicated with his platoon commander.

"This device attached to my helmet allows me to stay in touch with everyone in our unit, thus eliminating the need for runners," he tapped his mic, answering their unspoken question.

Henrietta blinked. "That's… rather convenient, I must say," she said.

Lionel then steered them back to the matter at hand. "Your highness, how many days will this take? And what's the distance from here to Charleroi?"

Henrietta leaned on her scepter. "Charleroi is three hours away from the capital. This task should hopefully take no more than three days."

She turned to Julius. "You will have two days to prepare. I'll provide as many horses as you need for the journey to Charleroi. For your funding, I will entrust you with 400 new gold for this task." She beckoned a servant, who stepped forward and gave her a pouch containing the mentioned amount of money.

Lionel keyed his comms again.

"Dagger 1 to Broadsword 1-1, Charleroi is three hours away on horseback. According to the princess, the op should last for three days. We'll have two days to get everything sorted out, how copy?"

" _Broadsword 1-1 to Dagger 1, interrogative: we all know how to ride horses, but how do we get there?"_ Travis asked, clearly puzzled.

"Broadsword 1-1, the princess will be providing us the transport. Relay the intel to Broadsword 2-1. Broadsword Actual out."

Henrietta took the coin pouch and gave it to Louise.

"I wish you luck on your task, Louise Françoise. Please, stay safe," she requested.

The pink-haired mage nodded with conviction. "I won't let you down, your highness," she declared.


	14. Charleroi

**Alvis Hall, 1852 hours**

"So, a raid in Charleroi for three days?"

Lionel looked up from his plate as Daniel sat down across from him. Around him, several officers from A, B, C, Headquarters, and Support Companies were clustered around Louise as they went about their dinner and hashed their plans for the upcoming operation. He nodded before taking a pull from his wine goblet.

"I assume the major told you?" he inquired, returning to the roasted beef on his plate.

Daniel nodded. "Yeah, he already informed the rest of the company and platoon commanders. Word is, Support Company will be handling this one."

Lionel sighed as he finished the last of his dinner. "I'm not surprised at all, I guess I might have jumped the gun on this one."

"You're still going to Charleroi, but you'll be on standby in case the op goes south. Support Company will be handling the recon," Julius explained.

"Do we have an ID on the target?" Travis asked.

The major shook his head. "We have no idea as of yet, but something tells me that he's not that high up the chain. We'll see what recon finds out when we get there."

"Did her highness say anything about capturing him, or are we given authority to take him out?" a lieutenant from Support Company asked.

"She didn't say anything of the sort, but let's assume that she wants him alive for questioning. We can't run the risk of creating a power vacuum," Julius continued on with his dinner.

Sitting beside Julius, Louise let the tiniest signs of a smirk form on her lips. She had never felt more happy to have a familiar - no, partner, that went above and beyond to assist her in any task she was assigned. Things had been looking up ever since the British had arrived in Tristain.

 **Charleroi, Day 1, 1642 hours**

Two days after Henrietta had briefed the Lancastrians on their task at Charleroi, sixteen cloaked men scanned their surroundings as they walked swiftly through Charleroi's streets. Having stopped by the royal palace four hours prior, Support Company's recon element, along with 1st and 2nd Platoons from A Company, had finalized the details of the operation with the princess and secured an additional 900 new gold for the mission, as was agreed upon before 1st Platoon returned to the academy two days before. Upon arriving at the outskirts of the city, 1st and 2nd Platoons set up camp in a wooded area a hundred meters from the road while two sections from Support Company entered the city.

As the recon element reached the city square, it was decided that they split up in fireteams of four in order to cover more ground, with Delta 1-1 heading for a tavern called the Charming Fairies Inn while Delta 2-1 went for the casino. After booking two rooms for each pair for a three-day period, which cost 60 new gold per room, the designated marksman and the gunner of Delta 1-1 remained in their room for a few minutes while the team leader and the rifleman went about the tavern and surveyed the customers there.

"Delta 2-1, Delta 1-1, we're at a tavern called Charming Fairies Inn. Any signs of the package?" Cpl. Nicholas Fraser, Delta 1-1's team leader, silently keyed his mic.

His rifleman, Pte. Damon Riley, downed his glass of ale in one go as he kept a close eye around him.

" _Negative, 1-1, no eyes on target,"_ Delta 2-1 responded.

"2-1, search the area around the casino. If you still can't see the package within one hour, rendezvous at the tavern. We'll hole up here for the remainder of the op and see what we can do. 1-1 out."

As Nicholas ended his transmission, Damon looked at his watch.

"Well, corporal, looks like it's going to be a long night," the private said as the two other men in their fireteam descended downstairs and joined their table.

"2-1 still at the casino?" Pte. Randall Blackburn, the gunner, inquired as their DM caught the attention of a passing maid.

Nicholas took a sip of wine as he glanced around him. "They're still tracking him down. Here's hoping that he'll turn up eventually."

After placing their orders, the quartet settled in to wait while keeping a watchful eye on anyone entering and leaving the establishment.

"Any word on Charlie 1? Where did they search?" Pte. Donovan Macmillan, the designated marksman, piped up.

Damon leaned back on his seat. "They said that they were gonna check one of the hotels in the area. I don't know about Charlie 2. By the way, does the client want him dead?"

"Negative, she wants him alive. As for his guards, it's up to us if we should take them out," Randall replied.

The group fell silent as a maid approached their table with a tray of steamed fish in her hands.

"Your total is 10 new gold, sirs," the maid said.

Nicholas took out the coin pouch and paid up. "Additional five new gold as a tip," he stated.

The maid bowed and left to attend to the other customers as Delta 1-1 dug into their food. Midway through their meal, Delta 2-1 arrived at the tavern, still cloaked, and took a table next to them.

"No sign of the target?" Nicholas queried between bites of his food.

2-1's team leader shook his head. "We checked everywhere, nothing. We'll see what turns up with Charlie when they report in."

Nicholas nodded. "Right. Get a couple of rooms for three days, we'll see if he turns up within that time period."

 **Outskirts of Charleroi, 1822 hours**

"Are you serious?! I have to sleep on the ground?!'

Louise was not amused. While the Lancastrians were used to sleeping anywhere they can, the mage was repulsed by the thought of sleeping in a dingy inn, much less on a sleeping bag out in the open by the woods.

"You do understand that a fancy hotel would cost around 300 new gold per night, right?" Julius deadpanned as he glanced around his encampment. Horses were hitched on one side of the encampment while campfires were lit on another.

"But you don't understand! I'm a noble, I think you can say that I deserve better than this!" Louise spluttered.

Julius just sighed exasperatedly. "Have you been shot upon before?" he asked.

The mage just blinked. "What?"

"Have you ever been shot upon before?" Julius repeated.

"I haven't," Louise replied.

"Did you ever have to endure a hot climate? Live for days eating field rations? Lose a friend? Sleep out in the open without a proper bed? Survive with little entertainment?"

The questions came at a rapid pace, and instantly Louise knew what the major meant.

"No, I'm sorry," she said, with tears threatening to form in her eyes.

Julius took out a cigarette from his pack and lit it. "Then you should consider yourself lucky. You have it easy compared to me and my men. Now, let's see about getting something to eat."

He then strode past her into the encampment and keyed his mic. "Delta 1-1, Dagger Actual, what's the status?'

 _"Dagger Actual_ _, no sign of the target. Will continue to monitor the area,"_ Nicholas responded.

"Right, keep a close eye. Dagger Actual out."

The major made his way to one of the campfires and settled down, opening his rucksack and taking out two MRPs that he requisitioned from Support Company. As he opened the packs and pulled out their contents, Louise walked up to Julius and watched as Julius set about preparing food for the two of them.

As he waited for the rations to heat up, he surveyed the men clustered around more than a dozen campfires and checked in with the recon element inside the target area, with no results so far. With a frustrated grunt, he stared off into the distance in Charleroi's direction.

 **Charleroi, Day 2, 1904 hours**

After spending another day searching for their target, the rest of the recon element rendezvoused with Delta 1-1 and Delta 2-1 at Julius's orders. With Charlie 1-1 and 2-1 occupying one side of the building and Delta 1-1 and 2-1 on the other, they had a perfect view of anyone entering and leaving the tavern. The noise level within the room gave the fireteams from Charlie and Delta the opportunity to debrief without attracting too much attention.

As Delta 2-1 was about to order, the tavern's door suddenly opened, admitting a portly man dressed in green britches and a similarly colored tunic with yellow facings, resplendent with a red cape. Behind him were six uniformed men, who wielded clubs. The occupants fell silent and scowled at the new arrivals.

The tavern's owner, a crossdressing man named Scarron, approached the man.

"Lord Chillan, what a surprise! Welcome to the Charming Fairies Inn!" the owner gushed.

The recon element tensed upon hearing Scarron speak, and prepared to spring into action.

The man leered at the occupants inside. "Looks like business is slow today, hmm?" he growled menacingly.

Scarron laughed nervously. "Well, I'm afraid that's not the case for tonight; you see, this tavern is usually empty that you could hear a pin drop to the ground!"

Chillan laughed like a shark smelling blood. "Come now, Scarron, my men and I are only here as customers for the night. Surely you could spare a few tables for us, couldn't you?"

Scarron let out another nervous chuckle. "Well, milord, you see, that's the problem. All tables are fully booked."

"Delta 1-1 to all call signs, be advised, we may have found our target," Nicholas urgently whispered into his mic.

" _Dagger Actual_ _to all recon elements, stand by, wait for him to make a move,"_ Julius responded.

Glaring at the now-identified noble, Nicholas beckoned a maid to their table. "Dagger Actual, solid copy. 1-1 out."

The team leader, upon seeing the maid reach their table, motioned for her to lean towards him.

"Is he a noble? Who is he?" Nicholas asked.

The maid glared at the noble. "He's Chillan de Marmont, the queen's tax collector in Charleroi. Any merchant who goes up against him gets heavily taxed, so no one here has the heart to rise up against him. He follows you around and never leaves any tip at every establishment he goes to. Not a single employee is willing to serve him, they only do so out of fear," she hissed, anger evident in her voice.

Nicholas just chuckled. "I'll be the judge of that," he said, turning to Chillan. The noble appeared to be enjoying himself.

"Are you sure that all tables are booked?" the fat noble sneered, before snapping his fingers.

Immediately, one of his guards moved into action. "Out! Everyone out!" he barked.

Slowly, the customers got up from their seats and shuffled outside, except for sixteen cloaked men. The lead guard, upon seeing this, motioned the other guards to evict them from their tables.

Nicholas quickly keyed his mic. "Delta 1-1 to Dagger, target has made his move and is evicting civilians from the tavern. Permission to go loud."

" _1-1, you're cleared hot. Go, go!"_ Julius immediately responded.

The recon element, seeing the guards approach, immediately stood up and threw off their cloaks, revealing their Multi-Terrain Pattern uniforms and their rifles, which they aimed at Chillan and his guards.

"Hands up! On your knees, don't move!" Nicholas yelled. The other customers, upon hearing the team leader speak, peered inside and were surprised to see several strangely dressed men holding unusual muskets.

Chillan, initially surprised, recovered and directed his anger at the recon element.

"A bunch of worthless peasants defying me? You must be out of your mind! Who are you to be so foolish as to have the nerve to go up against me?!" he raved.

Nicholas let go of his rifle, withdrew the permit from his pocket, and unrolled it for Chillan to see.

The noble let out a gasp, and Nicholas quickly rolled the permit and replaced it in his pocket before aiming his rifle at the tax collector.

"I said on your knees, drop your weapons and get down!" he bellowed.

Chillan motioned for his men to obey and dropped on his knees. Immediately, the rest of the recon element dragged the guards before dumping them in front of the tax collector.

Donovan roughly pushed Chillan to the ground and bound his hands behind him with zip ties before he and Damon dragged the noble out of the tavern. The remaining members of the recon element followed outside except for Nicholas and Delta 2's team leader. With the guards lined up before them, both men raised their rifles and emptied their magazines into the helpless guards.

Nicholas turned to Scarron, who held an expression of shock the whole time the British confronted Chillan. He took out the coin pouch and held it out to the tavern's owner.

"My apologies, sir, but I just can't stand by and do nothing while this happens," he said.

Nodding dumbly, Scarron took the money before collapsing to his knees, and the maids rushed to his aid. One of the maids turned to the 1-1's team leader.

"W-we saw and heard nothing, that's how it g-goes at the Charming Fairies Inn," she stammered.

Nicholas turned away and keyed his mic. "Dagger Actual, package secured, preparing for exfil." He glanced at the crowd outside and raised his hand to reassure them.

" _Delta 1-1, Dagger copies all. Rendezvous at the outskirts of the city, out."_

With that, Nicholas stepped out of the tavern and motioned to the rest of the recon element to move out.

 **Tristania, 0032 hours**

Fouquet sat in her cell somewhere in southeastern Tristania. Unable to sleep, she had been brooding for hours about the failed attempt to steal the Staff of Destruction. She was broken out of her thoughts when the cell door opened and a figure entered, causing her to look up at whoever it was.

"It's already late at night, what do you want?" she snapped.

The figure chuckled before speaking. "Don't worry, I've come to get a comrade out of this place. How have you been, Fouquet? Or should I say, Matilda de Saxe-Coburg and Gotha?"

Fouquet lost the ability to speak for a moment before she finally regained it. "You're… it can't be."


	15. A New Start

**Tristanian Royal Palace, 0640 hours**

The palace guards looked on impassively as 1st and 2nd Platoons and Support Company's recon element followed closely behind Louise to the gates of the palace, with a bound and gagged Chillan in tow. Upon reaching the palace gates, the Lancastrians removed the zip ties around the former tax collector's wrists. After witnessing the execution of his guards, he knew better than to offer any resistance. He and his captors watched as Louise spoke to the guards.

"We're here to see Her Highness regarding the task we were given a few days ago. This noble here has been abusing the citizens of Charleroi," she stated.

The guards exchanged glances before motioning them inside. The recon element, with Chillan under tight security, proceeded inside with Julius and Louise while 1st and 2nd Platoons stood guard outside. A servant led them into the palace itself, with the nobles gathered there looking on with stunned expressions as the Lancastrians were asked to wait outside the throne room while the servant notified Henrietta.

"You executed Chillan's guards? What the fuck were you thinking?" Julius hissed at Nicholas.

"They had it coming, major, after all that fat fuck had his minions do to the people there," the corporal replied.

The major just glared at Nicholas. "That doesn't excuse the mess that you've caused. We were ordered only to capture Chillan, not go wild on a godforsaken shooting spree," he snarled.

He strode forward until he was only inches from the fiery corporal. "The next time you act out of line, I'll have you busted back down to private so fast that your balls will take a week to catch up. Do I make myself clear, Corporal Fraser?"

If Nicholas felt fear at that moment, he did his best not to show it. "Crystal, sir."

Julius held his glare for a few more seconds before turning away and returning to Louise's side, just in time for the doors to the throne room and the servant to usher them inside.

The major and the recon element marched in after Louise, with every weapon trained on Chillan. Henrietta rose from her throne and approached Julius and his men. Julius turned to the recon element and nodded, and one of the Lancastrians suddenly forced Chillan to his knees, eliciting a muffled gasp from the portly man.

"Your Highness, I present to you Chillan de Marmont. Our recon element caught him in the act of evicting the locals from a tavern for his and his guards' personal use," Julius said.

The princess frowned upon hearing the major's words and stared at Chillan. "Mr. Marmont, words alone cannot express how disappointed I am in you," she rebuked.

Her stare hardened as she regarded the man coldly before her. "Please, escort Mr. Marmont to the dungeon immediately," she ordered.

A musketeer from the 4th Life Battalion, one of the four battalions that formed Henrietta's Musketeer Knights, stepped forward, followed by seven more of her comrades. Two Lancastrians hauled Chillan to his feet and passed him on to the Tristanian squad, who then escorted the man to the dungeon.

Henrietta then turned towards Julius and Louise. "Once again, a job well done, Louise. And to you and your men as well, sir Julius," she began. "Would you like to join me for breakfast? I would like to know about how the mission played out."

The officer and mage glanced at each other. "Your Highness, are you sure it's alright?" Louise asked.

"Please. As my beloved friend, it is no trouble at all," she said as she took Louise's hands in hers.

"Princess Henrietta…" Louise simply smiled back at Henrietta. "I would love to join you, Your Highness."

Julius turned to the recon element and fixed them with a glare that could melt steel. "Gentlemen, I want you all to act professionally. You're standing in the presence of Tristain's leadership, I don't want any complications to arise. Understood?"

"Yes, major," his men responded.

 **Tristain Academy of Magic, 1142 hours**

Louise slowed her horse down to a trot as the academy came into view. Nine Challenger IIs, which had been sent to the palace to transport 1st and 2nd Platoons and the recon element on the way back, likewise slowed down to a crawl, allowing the Lancastrians to disembark and walk alongside the tanks. As they neared the gates, they heard gunfire ring out from one of the academy's courtyards. They also heard Daniel's voice as he shouted instructions to his platoon commanders, which indicated that B Company was performing a live-fire exercise.

"Alright, lads, pack it in and get some rest," Julius hollered to his men as they entered the academy. As they filed in, the major noted the lack of students and teachers within the academy, with the exception of Kirche and Tabitha, who were in the middle of loading their luggage into a waiting carriage.

"Where are the rest? I don't see any students around," he asked.

"They have gone for the summer vacation. Either they've gone home to their family estates or they're just traveling," Louise replied as the two other mages turned to them.

"Louise? I thought you had already left for home. I didn't see you around today," Kirche stated.

Louise raised an eyebrow at this. "I just ran a few errands here and there. It's nothing significant," she acknowledged as she dismounted her horse.

Julius closed in on the three mages. "Louise, I'll be meeting with the other officers for a debriefing. It should take no more than an hour," he said.

"Of course, sir Julius. I need to rest anyway," Louise nodded at the major, who returned the gesture and went off to the rest of the battalion.

Kirche and Tabitha looked on before Louise turned back to them. "So, were you leaving just now?" she inquired.

"Yeah, we were going to visit Tabitha's place," the redhead responded as she made her way to the carriage. Tabitha had already boarded and had her nose buried into one of her books.

"I see. I supoose there's nothing for me to do for the rest of the day," Louise reckoned.

"Well, Louise, we're heading off now," Kirche said as she hauled herself into the carriage before closing the door. The carriage immediately drove away.

With an exhausted sigh, Louise led her horse to the stables and handed it over to a stableman. On her way back to one of the towers where her room was located, she saw Montmorency emerge from the academy's main building, a pensive look on her face.

"Montmorency, what are you still doing here?" Louise asked.

The blonde turned to her, letting out a sigh.

"I still have to take care of Guiche. He's still injured from his duel several days ago, but he's recovering. We… had a conversation about you on the day Guiche lost the duel. He was traumatized, to say the least. He has expressed his regret for everything he has done to you."

Montmorency turned her gaze to the mage before her. "I feel the same way; all this bickering will just get us nowhere. To tell you the truth, I'm tired of it all. Both of us want to start over… that is, if you're willing to," she said, a rare look of remorse written on her face.

Louise stared at Montmorency for a moment, studying her face for any signs of deceit. However, she found none, so she just sighed and rubbed her forehead.

"Alright," the pink-haired mage said. "Take me to Guiche."

With a nod, the blonde turned around and walked back into the building, with Louise not far behind. The atmosphere was tense as the two mages made their way to the medical wing, with neither of the girls saying a word. Upon reaching the medical wing, Louise made a beeline straight for Guiche.

His eyes were blank and unfocused, his hair unkempt, and his right shoulder covered with bandages. He raised his head as he turned to the girls approaching him.

Louise took a deep breath before she spoke. "Guiche, will you be able to recover soon?" she began.

Guiche gave a short nod. "Yes, Louise. I should be out of here within three days," he responded. "I… take it that Montmorency has already told you everything?"

"About starting over? Yes, she has, and I'm more than willing to put all our differences aside. Staying angry for most of the day can be quite taxing," Louise stated.

The blond fop merely tilted his head and gave the pink-haired mage a melancholic smile. "I know that Montmorency has already apologized on my behalf, but please, do allow me to apologize once again for all of the wrongdoings we have done," he said.

Louise returned Guiche's smile with her own. "Alright, Guiche. Consider yourself forgiven."

 **Alvis Hall, 1828 hours**

The dining hall was packed tonight, not with students but with infantrymen and the occasional tank crewman here and there. With most of the students having gone home for the summer vacation, there was little reason to let the enlisted personnel continue having their meals outside on the courtyard. A few students, such as Louise, Montmorency, and Guiche, have decided to stay at the academy for the duration of summer. The three mages were currently seated with Julius and the rest of the officers as they went about their dinner.

"So, let me get this straight. You two want to take Louise out on a trip to Virton and spend the night there as a way of making amends with her?" Travis asked the blonde couple.

"Yes, lieutenant. It is a place that is important to my family," Montmorency replied. "It has been years since I have last been there, and I want us to spend our vacation there. That is, if Louise allows us to."

Louise hesitated for a short moment before she responded. "I think that I would like to take up Montmorency on her offer, on the condition that sir Julius comes along, too. He has already protected us once, when Fouquet attacked during the familiar exhibition. I feel safer with him and his men nearby," she responded, causing Julius to raise an eyebrow as he drank from his goblet.

"Well, I mean technically that's what we're supposed to be doing, eh? Keeping you safe and all that," Christian said, half-focused on the food on his plate.

"What he said," Daniel added.

"What do you say, major?" Lionel inquired as he finished up the last of his food.

Julius took his time as he glanced at the three mages in front of him before he made his decision.

"Captain Green, I want Lieutenant Ingram-Mallory's platoon to start preparations within three days. His platoon will be providing escort detail for us to Virton," he said.

Christian gave a short nod. "Yes, sir, I'll see to it."

"Did you call for me, major? Captain?"

Julius and the three company commanders turned to see a bespectacled officer standing before them. 1st Lieutenant Martin Ingram-Mallory, 3rd Platoon's commander in C Company, was widely known for being enthusiastic, if not too enthusiastic, at doing his job.

"Lieutenant," Christian grunted. "how would you like to go on a little vacation?"

The lieutenant simply grinned. "Why, I thought you'd never ask, sir," he replied.

Christian sighed. "Alright, here are the details…"


	16. Lake Lagdorian

**Portsmouth, Albion, 1733 hours**

A cloaked figure made his way through the crowd as the sun started to set on the horizon. Scanning his surroundings warily as he made a beeline for a tavern situated next to the city's harbor, he took note of two squads of Reconquista pikemen from Cromwell's New Model Army as they patrolled the streets. Upon entering, he casted a quick glance before his eyes settled on a table, where another cloaked figure sat, drinking a cup of wine. He walked quickly and took a seat across the table.

"Good afternoon, Hugh," the first figure greeted as he removed his hood, revealing a brunette, blue-eyed man in his mid-twenties.

The second figure, a black-haired teen with brown eyes, nodded. "Arthur, glad you could make it," the second figure returned. "We have recent developments."

Arthur leaned forward and stared at the man in front of him. "Alright, I'm listening."

Hugh took his time before he responded, staring back at Arthur as he finished the last of his wine. "Reports indicate that an invasion of Tristain is scheduled to take place after the royalists are overthrown," he murmured.

He then got up on his feet. "Our ship is about to leave. We should go, I'll tell you more," he muttered as he strode out of the tavern.

Arthur followed Hugh as the pair made their way to the harbor, where their ship will take them to La Rochelle in Gallia.

"Any news from Newcastle?" Arthur whispered as they strode across the gangplank and towards the ship. Newcastle had been besieged by sixty Reconquista battalions (24,000 men) for nearly two weeks after the separatists had failed to take the city in a frontal assault. With thirty-two (13,000 men) royalist battalions pinned down behind the city's fortifications, the forces loyal to the crown were nearing their breaking point.

Hugh turned towards his companion with a grim expression on his face. "It's still under siege, and we barely escaped in time. That 21,000-man army has forced us to fall back into the city, but not before we inflicted heavy losses. The rebels have been reinforced by an additional 6,000 men, which brings us to where we are now."

He took a deep breath. "Newcastle is heavily fortified, though, and it would take an army twice the size of the forces in the city a week to capture it, maybe less if the enemy is skillful enough. Even if Newcastle falls, the enemy would be so depleted that it could take a month and a half or more to bring it back up to full strength. Still, this doesn't make the situation any better."

The brunette exhaled sharply as he pondered over what he had just heard.

"Do we have any forces available that can relieve the city?" he asked.

Hugh nodded. "The Duke of Marlborough is currently heading east to Newcastle with an army of 7,000; it will take him five days to arrive, three and a half if he conducts a forced march. The Duke of Leeds is on his way south to Doncaster with another 8,000 men to cut off Reconquista's supply lines. The Duke of Norfolk's army is all but destroyed at the Battle of Coventry; the 18th, 33rd, 56th, 85th, and 61st Regiments of Foot are still replenishing their ranks. It could take them two months before they could fight again. The 67th, 71st, 83rd Regiments, and 1st Foot Guards are no better; they had to rebuild from scratch after getting shattered at the aforementioned battle. I heard that the Duke of Norfolk plans to reinforce the Duke of Marlborough once they have recovered, but given the situation in Newcastle right now, I don't think they'll make it in time," he reported.

Arthur sighed, rubbing his temple. "Do you have the casualty figures for the Duke of Norfolk's army?" he asked.

Hugh reached into his cloak and produced a scroll, which he handed to his companion. Arthur took the scroll and unrolled it, his eyes poring over the written figures.

 **18th Regiment of Foot (Moore), initial strength of 800, suffered 257 casualties (93 dead, 122 wounded, 42 missing).**

 **33rd Regiment of Foot (Lincoln), initial strength of 800, suffered 231 casualties (70 dead, 113 wounded, 48 missing).**

 **56th Regiment of Foot (Adams), initial strength of 860, suffered 273 casualties (72 dead, 121 wounded, 80 missing).**

 **61st Regiment of Foot (Alexander), initial strength of 850, suffered 402 casualties (144 dead, 196 wounded, 62 missing).**

 **67th Regiment of Foot (Ingersoll), initial strength of 800, suffered 591 casualties (180 dead, 387 wounded, 24 missing).**

 **71st** **Regiment of Foot (Salisbury), initial strength of 850, suffered 653 casualties (172 dead, 441 wounded, 40 missing).**

 **83rd Regiment of Foot (Clinton), initial strength of 800, suffered 438 casualties (97 dead, 283 wounded, 58 missing).**

 **85th** **Regiment of Foot (Hamilton), initial strength of 800, suffered 441 casualties (103 dead, 275 wounded, 63 missing).**

 **1st Foot Guards (Collingwood), initial strength of 800, suffered 593 casualties (207 dead, 374 wounded, 12 missing).**

For a short moment, Arthur felt sick as he stared at the numbers, and with trembling hands, he rolled the scroll and returned it to Hugh.

"What should we do now? There has to be a solution for this," he lamented.

Hugh shifted his eyes down to the ship's deck as he contemplated his answer.

"We move to Tristain and warn the princess. Albion is lost as it already is, but if we hurry, we can prevent Tristain from falling into Reconquista's hands."

' _I would willingly die before I let those heretics gain a foothold in mainland Halkeginia,'_ he said to himself.

 **Outskirts of Virton, 1325 hours**

Three days had passed, and the planned trip to Virton started off without any issue, with four Challengers following closely behind Louise, Guiche, and Montmorency. 3rd Platoon, C Company took in the scenery around them from their positions onboard the tanks. The town, which was six hours away on horseback, was situated in the middle of a valley next to the border with Gallia, with Lake Lagdorian's shores located to the south.

Upon cresting a hill that would give them a panoramic view of the town, the mages halted, with Martin disembarking from the lead tank. What lay before them surprised the mages and put the lieutenant on alert.

"What the… what happened to Virton?" Montmorency breathed.

The entire town of Virton was flooded, with the water levels reaching as high as nine meters in depth, and it took nearly no time at all for everyone to conclude that the town had been abandoned for some time.

Unable to believe what he was seeing, Martin gingerly made his way down the slope until he was knee-deep in the water. Taking a cursory glance around him, he waded back ashore and up the slope, where Julius had disembarked, along with the troops from the lead tank.

"Well, shit. I wouldn't want to be one of the poor bastards that lived here," he mumbled to himself.

"Do you have any idea what happened here?" Martin heard Julius ask Montmorency.

The blonde mage shook her head. "I think the water spirit must be upset for some reason," she replied.

Julius's eyes narrowed at her words. "There's a water spirit?" he queried.

Montmorency nodded. "Yes. The water level is unusually high, as you can see."

"No shit, Sherlock," a private snarked, before his platoon sergeant cuffed him upside the head.

"While I do enjoy hearing your wise inputs, this isn't the time to be a smartass, so I suggest that you shut it before I give the entire platoon a beasting session right now," he growled.

The private rubbed the back of his helmet. "Got it, sarge."

Montmorency turned to Julius after witnessing the exchange. "The lake's water levels were normal the last time I went here. I'll try to contact the water spirit tonight, she only appears after the sun had set."

Julius removed his helmet and scratched his blond hair. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked.

The mage turned to the town and nodded. "I have made a pact with her since I was a child. Just let me talk to her and we'll see why this has happened."

With a nod, Julius and the rest of the men got back on the tanks, save for one private who had volunteered to guide the tanks to an alternate route that would take them to Lake Lagdorian's shores. Upon reaching the bottom of the hill, the platoon and the tank crewmen dismounted and searched for any foliage they could use to camouflage the tanks.

As they waited for the sun to set, boredom quickly set in among the men. Some of the troops passed the time away with random chatter and small talk, some took part in a poker game, and some attempted to catch what sleep they could.

"Three hours of waiting. Might as well catch forty winks," Julius muttered as he removed his rucksack, sat down beside one of the tanks, leaned back, and closed his eyes.

 **Virton, 1755 hours**

"…jor, Major, wake up."

Julius groaned, opening his eyes to find Martin standing over him. Yawning tiredly, he stretched and got up on his feet, putting his rucksack on.

"They're about to try summoning the water spirit now," the lieutenant informed him, turning his glance to Montmorency. The blonde mage was standing at the shores of the lake, having just pricked her finger and letting a drop of blood fall on her familiar, which then proceeded to jump into the lake's cooling waters.

The major donned his helmet as the two officers made their way to Montmorency, who was flanked by Guiche and Louise. Half of 3rd Platoon was standing by behind them, their rifles loaded but with their safeties on. The remainder of the platoon was spread out in a semicircle behind them in order to hold off any potential attackers from behind. "Are you sure this'll work?" he asked.

Montmorency turned to Julius. "Robin will be able to bring the water spirit to us if he can find her," she confidently declared.

Julius was about to ask who Robin was before he remembered that it was Montmorency's familiar.

"Well, we can only hope that the spirit will show up," Louise stated.

Montmorency turned to her fellow mage. "Years ago, when I was younger, I made a treaty with the spirit when my father brought me here. She will definitely come if she recognizes me."

' _And that's a big 'if' we're talking about,'_ Martin mused.

"Now, you have to know, the last thing we want is to antagonize the water spirit, because she can kill us all very easily, so we have to be very careful," Montmorency continued.

The mages and the troops that were near enough murmured their agreements.

Suddenly, the lake began to shoot a huge spout of water ten meters tall.

"The spirit has answered!" Montmorency called.

Immediately, the soldiers facing the lake turned off their rifles' safeties and aimed at the lake.

"Stand down! Stand down, lower your weapons! Who do you think you are, Caligula?!" Julius barked to his men.

The Lancastrians reluctantly lowered their rifles and watched for any signs of aggression.

"I can't believe it's been so long," Derflinger spoke up.

Julius looked over his shoulder. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

Montmorency raised her arms as she addressed the spirit.

"I am Montmorency Margarita La Fère de Montmorency, a water mage from the family that had made a treaty with you. Please, if you can recognize my blood, appear before us and answer me in a form that we can identify," she declared.

The waterspout eventually transformed into the shape of a woman.

"I remember you now, lone one, and the fluid that flows through your veins," the spirit answered.

Whispers of disbelief flowed through the troops as they stared at the sight before them.

"As you can see, I have been busy increasing the lake's depths day after day, leaving me no time to deal with those who were attacking me," the spirit went on. "Some of your kind are attacking me for one reason or another, and my request is that you put an end to these attacks."

Guiche narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. "Who would be so brash and reckless as to go against the water spirit, of all beings?" he asked.

"How am I supposed to know?" Montmorency asked the blond fop.

Julius keyed his mic. "Dagger Actual to all elements, stay sharp, find some concealment and watch for anyone suspicious. All tanks, power down, machine guns only. 3rd Platoon, prepare to engage imminent hostiles using every nonlethal method possible. Flashbangs, smoke grenades, I don't care. We'll need to know who these wankers are working for."

" _Claymore 1-1 copies."_

" _Claymore 2-1, Lima Charlie."_

" _Titan One, roger that."_

"Major, permission to speak," a private said.

Julius nodded. "Go on."

The private cleared his throat. "Sir, with all due respect, you do realize that there's a high chance that we might be going up against mages, right?"

Julius loaded his rifle and pulled back the charging handle. "Try to aim for nonlethal shots. Go for the arm or the leg, if possible."

"Understood, sir," the private nodded.

Louise, Montmorency, and Guiche all looked at Julius in disbelief.

"You're seriously going against these attackers?!" Guiche exclaimed as the Hussars powered down their tanks.

The major just narrowed his eyes and glared at the young mage. "Do I have to remind you who won the duel between you and Cpl. Holstein? Or who managed to capture Fouquet?" he snapped.

Guiche shrank at the major's rebuke. "M-my apologies, sir," he stammered.

 **Virton, 2209 hours**

All was quiet as the Lancastrians and the Hussars scanned their surroundings from their concealed positions in the many bushes scattered around with the aid of their night vision goggles. As Julius scanned the shoreline for the would-be attackers, he caught sight of two cloaked figures facing the lake, with one of them in the midst of casting a spell.

The rest of the platoon also saw what was happening, and four Lancastrians, with Martin among them, crept up to them silently. They stopped eight meters from the two mages, and Martin made a hand signal. He turned away, as did two others, and the last soldier brought out an M84 flashbang. He quietly pulled the pin and threw it, shutting his eyes as soon as the grenade left his hand.

The mages, which were too focused on the lake, were too slow to react by the time the grenade landed at their feet, producing a deafening crash and a blinding light. They staggered, unsure of what had just happened, before they were tackled to the ground.

"Hostiles down! Move! Move!" Julius barked as he emerged from his cover, with the entire platoon converging on Martin's position. Louise, Guiche, and Montmorency followed close behind.

3rd Platoon then proceeded to disarm the two cloaked figures, and Julius removed their hoods to see who they were dealing with.

His face hardened as soon as he saw the faces.

"Kirche and Tabitha," Martin hissed. "Start talking. Now. What are you doing here? Why were you attacking the spirit?"

By then, every Lancastrian had their rifles aimed at the two mages, who looked around them in confusion until their eyes settled on Julius and the trio of mages behind him.

"S-s-s-sir Julius?" Kirche stammered. "What's going on? Why is – "

"I'm the one you're talking to, you fucking whore! Answer the question now before I blow your brain off!" Martin yelled.

Kirche flinched at the lieutenant's anger. "W-well, with the water levels rising, Tabitha's family's estate is being damaged due to the flood, so she was sent here to put an end to it," she replied.

Julius hummed in thought as he processed that information.

"Stand down, Lieutenant Mallory," he said. "I know that you're dedicated to your job, but please, take it easy."

Martin exhaled sharply. "Yes, sir."

The major glared at the two mages in front of him. "Just when I thought that we'd catch a break," he muttered.

He turned to Montmorency. "See if you can summon the water spirit again. I want to know why she keeps flooding the lake," he ordered.

Montmorency, who had just witnessed how efficiently these men operated, could only nod.

A few minutes later, the water spirit reappeared before them.

Julius stepped forward. "With all due respect, why are you flooding the area?" he asked.

The water spirit turned to the major. "I am doing so because one of your kind has stolen a treasure that was under my watch. Since I can only exist in water, I am overflowing the lake in the hopes that someday, I shall be able to retrieve the treasure," she replied.

Julius turned to Martin, who only gave him a clueless shrug.

"Wouldn't that take a long time? Years, decades, even centuries?" he asked.

"There's no helping it. You do know that us humans are mortal, the concept of time is much more different for the spirits, who are immortal," Montmorency explained.

The other mages and the Lancastrians could only murmur in agreement.

"I'll see if can do something to get it back," Julius said. "This treasure. Tell me about it."

"It is a ring that I have spent much of my time with. It is called Andvari's ring," the spirit replied.

Montmorency gasped as she heard the name.

"I've heard of it from somewhere. It's a ring that grants artificial life," she clarified.

"But who could have taken the ring?" Kirche inquired.

The spirit looked at Julius before she answered. "It was an individual. He is named Cromwell, that's all I know."

The Lancastrians immediately bristled in anger or disgust at the name. Julius narrowed his eyes, a feeling of rage welling up inside him.

"Son of a bitch," one of the privates muttered. "Cromwell? As in Oliver Cromwell, the mass-murdering bastard?"

The spirit turned to the private. "You know this person?" she asked.

"Oh, we know him, alright," Julius seethed. "In our world, in our nation, there was once a man who bore that exact same name. He sought to overthrow our monarchy, plunging our nation into three civil wars. He killed many who opposed him."

He clenched his fist. "My ancestor was one of them."

Martin walked up to him. "Major, are we going to get the ring?"

Julius stared at the water spirit, his face wrought with wrath.

"It won't be easy, but I'll be damned if I don't do it," he answered.

He then addressed the spirit. "You don't have to ask, because I plan on getting that ring back if it means eliminating that bastard," he glowered.

Guiche only stared in disbelief. "How could anyone earn her trust so easily? She just doesn't believe in anyone right away."

"I believe in him," the spirit interjected. "Gandálfr made a pact with me in the distant past, and he has honored that pact. If Gandálfr swears an oath, he will fulfill it."

Julius turned on his rifle's safety. "Return the lake's water level back to normal, and we'll put Cromwell on top of our hit list," he said.

The spirit's form began to deteriorate. "I shall do so," she said, before disappearing back into the water with a huge splash.

He turned to his men as he made his way to the tanks. "I want a two-hour watch. We'll leave at 0600 hours tomorrow. Get some shuteye."

 **Reconquista Command Center, Londinium, 2241 hours**

The conference room was empty, save for three individuals. Wardes and Fouquet, who had just arrived from Tristain, stood before Cromwell.

"The time has come to proceed with the next part of our plan. Do not fail me," Cromwell said.

"As you command, Your Highness," Fouquet acknowledged, a smirk on her lips.


	17. Deceptions and War Clouds

**Tristanian Royal Palace, 1013 hours**

"Your Highness, we have two men from Albion who request an audience with you," a servant informed Henrietta, who was currently taking care of some paperwork in her quarters. Putting down her quill in its inkwell, the princess stood up.

"Have they given their names?" she asked.

The servant shook his head. "They have not, Your Highness, but they said that it is an urgent matter," he replied. "From the way they carry themselves, it would appear as though they are nobles."

Henrietta raised a eyebrow before she sighed. "Tell them to wait for me in the throne room while I make myself presentable," she ordered. "I shall meet them soon."

With a bow, the servant left, closing the doors behind him as he made his way to the palace gates, where the two Albionians waited. He motioned for the guards to let them inside, whereupon they were escorted by eight musketeers.

Fifteen minutes later, Henrietta arrived at the throne room to see two young men, one of them a brunette and the other with black hair, wearing cloaks. Upon seeing the princess, they threw off their cloaks, revealing clothes that a noble would wear, and knelt before Henrietta.

The brunette spoke first. "Your Highness, allow me to introduce myself and my compatriot. I am Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington, and this is Hugh Percy, Duke of Northumberland," he gestured to his companion. "We bring grave news from Albion."

Henrietta nodded. "A pleasure to meet you. Please, stand." As Arthur and Hugh got on their feet, she took a seat on her throne. "What news do you bring?"

Hugh cleared his throat before he spoke. "Your Highness, as you may already know, Albion is currently in the midst of a civil war. His Royal Highness, Prince Wales, has sent us here to inform you that he is currently holding out against the Reconquista in Newcastle, and that the rebels plan to invade Tristain once all of Albion has fallen into their hands."

Henrietta's eyes widened as she heard the words. Several nobles within the throne room all tried to speak over one another at the same time.

"An invasion of Tristain? Please, tell me that this is nothing more than an elaborate joke!" one nobleman scoffed.

Arthur shook his head. "My lord, I'm afraid that what he says is true. We have spies in Albion, spies loyal to the crown, who have managed to intercept the enemy's plans."

He reached into his tunic and produced a scroll. "And here are the plans," he stated as he presented it to Henrietta.

Narrowing her eyes, Henrietta took the scroll and examined its contents. As she read them, she paled in horror at what she had just found out.

"So it is true," she murmured, as she gripped her scepter.

"Your Highness?" her marshal, Olivier de Poitiers, inquired with a worried look.

The princess rolled the scroll. "The Reconquista have, indeed, made preparations to invade Tristain with a force of 50,000 men," she revealed, throwing everyone into shock.

"I'm afraid that there is another issue, Your Highness," Hugh said as he took out a second scroll. "You are familiar with a Viscount Jean-Jacques Francis de Wardes, correct?"

The princess nodded. "Yes, what about him?"

Hugh handed over the scroll to Henrietta. "He is in Albion right now, according to our spies. And this is what he had been doing."

Taking the scroll, Henrietta took her time in scanning it. By the time she had finished, her eyes were ablaze with fury.

"It appears that Viscount Wardes is working with the Reconquista," she said, causing the throne room to erupt in anger.

"Wardes? You mean to say that the very person who commands our Griffin Knights is a traitor?" de Poitiers growled.

Henrietta simply gave him the second scroll in order to confirm what she had said.

"That bastard," the marshal hissed. "That damned bastard."

Henrietta stood up and approached de Poitiers. "Marshal, what are the current numbers for our military?" she inquired.

The marshal sighed. "We have the First, Seventh, Eighth, and Eleventh Armies with a total strength of 38,000 men stationed along our borders with Germania, under the generals Lannes, Murat, Masséna, and the duke of Richelieu, as well as the Second, Fourth, Sixth, and Ninth Armies with 25,000 men on the Tristanian-Gallian border, commanded by generals Mortier and Friant, and the dukes of Arenberg and Havré. We also have the Third, Fifth, and Tenth Armies with 42,000 men under the duchess of Vallière, and the dukes of Gramont and Grandpre. Our navy, under Admiral Villeneuve, has three first-rate ships of the line, three second-rates, seven third-rates, and ten fourth-rates," the marshal informed the princess.

"Is it possible to reinforce the Third, Fifth, and Tenth should Reconquista decide to push through with the invasion?" Henrietta asked.

de Poitiers shook his head. "Unfortunately, we cannot spare any more men to reinforce the armies that are not assigned to keep watch on our borders. There is a possibility that Gallia and Germania would take this as an opportunity to launch an invasion in their respective areas," he said.

"So we'll have only three armies at our disposal," she mused. She turned to the two Albionians before her. "How can we be sure that you are loyal to the Tudors?" she asked.

Arthur clenched his fists. "The Reconquista have killed several people we were close to. And Hugh and I would be more than willing to help your forces prepare for the invasion," he declared.

The princess stood up. "I would like to speak with you two in private, if you would allow me," she requested.

Both men nodded. "Of course, Your Highness," Hugh said.

Henrietta turned to de Poitiers. "Marshal de Poitiers? I am authorizing the creation of a fifth battalion of Musketeer Knights. I shall also leave the military preparations to you and the rest of the generals," she stated.

The marshal bowed. "Of course, Your Highness."

She turned back to Arthur and Hugh, gesturing for them to follow her.

The three nobles were silent as they made their way to Henrietta's quarters, oblivious to the musketeers who stood guard in the hallways. Upon reaching her quarters, which was guarded by a pair of musketeers, and closing the doors, Henrietta spoke.

"Do you have spies in Tristain as well?" she asked.

The two men nodded. "Yes, they were with us when we managed to escape Newcastle as it was being besieged," Hugh replied. "Although we cannot disclose their whereabouts right now, but you can be rest assured they intend to aid Tristain in any way they can."

Henrietta made her way to a dresser and opened it, pulling out an envelope.

"This is a letter that I have received from Prince Wales two years ago. I would like to request that your spies return to Albion and give this back to him, in exchange for a letter that I sent to him. If it's not too much trouble – "

"Your Highness," Hugh interrupted. "Our spies would be more than willing to carry out such a task, if it means helping out in any way to stop Reconquista from achieving their goals."

He turned to Arthur. "I shall have them prepare within an hour and make sure that everything goes smoothly. Are you coming?"

Arthur shook his head. "I'll stay here and act as the military advisor to Tristain. That is, if the princess would be amenable to such an idea."

Henrietta smiled and gave the letter to Hugh. "Of course. We'll need all the help we can get. Thank you both."

She proceeded to remove a ring from her finger before taking Hugh's hand and placing the ring in his palm.

"This is the ring of water. This should tell Prince Wales that it is I who sent one of your spies to retrieve the letter. Please, take good care of this ring for me until the letter has been retrieved," she instructed the Albionian noble.

Hugh stared at the ring before tucking it inside his tunic. Bowing before the princess, the two Albionians departed Henrietta's quarters and proceeded to begin their respective tasks.

 **Tristain Academy of Magic, 2132 hours**

Upon 3rd Platoon's return to the academy a day before, the rest of the battalion and the Hussars had been shocked and infuriated to discover that a person with Oliver Cromwell's namesake exists in Albion, and is currently in the process of overthrowing the Albionian crown, similar to what the Cromwell they knew had done. Most of the men had expressed their desire to go to Albion in order to find the man and kill him, only for Julius to reject them, explaining that such an action would be likely to cause a diplomatic incident.

Inside Louise's room, as Julius, Travis, and the three company commanders discussed the events that had transpired two days before, the mage's windows suddenly opened. The officers instinctively aimed their rifles at the windows, only to lower them when they discovered that it was only Henrietta, who was paying a visit to Louise.

"Your Highness!" Louise breathed as she knelt before the princess. "What are you doing here at this hour?!"

The princess gestured for Louise to stand, before she spoke.

"Louise, sir Julius, sir Lionel, I have something to tell you," Henrietta said as she walked over and sat on Louise's bed.

The five officers glanced at each other. "We're all ears, Your Highness," Travis stated.

Henrietta regarded him with a sad smile. "I have given this some thought for quite some time now, and I have made the decision to marry the emperor of Germania, Albrecht III, from the House of Hohenzollern."

Travis just stood where he was, stunned at the words. The three company commanders looked at each other, unsure on how to process this information. Julius raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side.

And Louise spluttered with indignation.

"You're marrying into a nation of upstart barbarians that dare to call themselves nobles?! Your Highness, why would you want to have anything to do with Germania?!" the mage cried out.

"I have to, Louise Françoise. I had to agree to the engagement if it means keeping Tristain secure," Henrietta explained.

Travis scratched his head. "I understand that this is a political marriage and all that, but what are we missing here?"

The princess looked down at her lap. "The nations of Tristain, Gallia, Albion, and Romalia were all blessed by Brimir six thousand years ago, or so the legend goes. Only Germania was not blessed by the Founder, hence why the Germanians are treated with disdain," she clarified.

"Your Highness, I know that you're doing everything you can for Tristain, but marrying a Germanian noble?" Louise protested.

Henrietta stood up and approached her friend, clutching her hands.

"Louise, this is a sacrifice I'm willing to make as the princess of Tristain. I have to put the needs of the nation above my own," she said.

Taking a step back, she continued. "Earlier this morning, two Albionians loyal to Prince Wales had come to see me. Albion is in the middle of a civil war right now, and the ruling family is slowly losing control. One of the nobles who came by volunteered to return to Albion in order to retrieve a letter from the prince and to prevent it from falling into the hands of Reconquista. If the contents of that letter were to be made known, my engagement to Emperor Albrecht may have a high chance of being called off."

Tears welled up in Henrietta's eyes. "Louise, I don't know what else to do. With all these problems, I don't even know how to proceed. I… I…"

Louise rushed to the princess and knelt before her. "Your Highness, you don't have to endure all this alone! Please, if there's any way I can help you, just tell me! I'll do it, no matter what!" she cried out.

The princess flashed her a melancholic smile. "Thank you, Louise," she murmured.

With that, Henrietta opened the windows and floated off into the night, taking care to avoid the British troops down below.

For a moment, the room was silent until the three company commanders decided that it was time to call it a night.

"Major?" Julius turned to Lionel, who had broken the silence.

"With your permission, we'd like to check on our men," the captain requested.

Julius nodded, and the three captains, along with Travis, saluted the major, who returned their salutes. As they walked out of the room, Julius took a deep breath, exhaling forcefully.

"Princess Henrietta and Prince Wales… did you know that they're cousins?" Louise blurted out.

Julius shook his head. "This is the first time I've heard of it. From the way the princess spoke about him, it seems that they're pretty close to each other."

The mage shook her head. "I only wish that there was something I could do to help the princess," she sighed. "I don't even know where to start."

"A leader must know when to make a difficult decision," Julius said. "It will only get harder before it gets easier, she'll make it through this. And let me tell you, Louise, you have to stay strong for her. Do you understand?"

Louise nodded. The major turned on his heels and made his way to the door.

"Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning," he said, as he stepped out of her room and shut door behind him.


	18. Thunderbolt

**Tristanian Royal Palace, 0622 hours**

Eight days after Henrietta's visit, Louise, Julius, and the three company commanders stood outside the throne room as they waited for Henrietta to arrive.

"Do you have any idea why Her Highness would summon us here at this hour?" Julius asked the mage.

"I don't know, but she never visits us at the academy or summons us to the palace if it's not important," Louise shook her head.

Before any of them could say another word, the doors to the throne room opened, and a servant ushered them in.

"Miss Vallière, Major Sickles, and Captains Bristol, Graham, and Green," the servant announced.

As the quintet stepped inside, they immediately noticed another person, a young man dressed in blue.

"Louise Françoise, Major Sickles, I would like to introduce you to the Duke of Wellington, Arthur Wellesley," Henrietta stood and motioned to the man beside her, causing the four officers' eyes to widen before they managed to keep themselves under control. They, along with Louise, bowed in respect to the man.

"Your Grace, it's an honor. Your namesake in our world happened to be an excellent military commander," Julius stated, earning an amused expression from the duke.

"The pleasure is mine. You must be the soldiers from another world that Her Highness here has told me about," the duke replied.

"That's correct, Your Grace," Christian said.

Arthur shook his head. "Please, call me Arthur. I'm merely a guest here in Tristain."

The British officers looked at one another. "As you wish, Your – I mean, Arthur," Daniel managed to catch himself.

Henrietta cleared her throat as she sat back down. "Now, on to why I summoned you here. I'm sure that you're aware that I had sent someone to retrieve a letter from Prince Wales," she began.

"Yes, Your Highness, you said as such," Louise responded.

"I and my colleague, Hugh Percy, Duke of Northumberland, managed to escape the clutches of Reconquista in Newcastle," Arthur started. "However, Hugh had volunteered to return to Albion with some of our men in order to perform that task. We have not heard from them yet, so I would like to ask you to go to Albion in order to find their whereabouts. The letter is of extreme – "

He was interrupted by a commotion outside the throne room. Julius narrowed his eyes as he tried to process what was going on outside.

"… have to see the princess now, this is an urgent matter that requires her attention!"

"… currently has guests! You'll have to wait until her business is concluded!"

"Sir, please, I implore you! This cannot wait!"

Henrietta motioned to the doors. "That's the Duke of Northumberland! Let him in!" she shouted.

The musketeers guarding the throne room opened the doors, and another young man walked, or rather, limped inside. Henrietta and Arthur stared in shock at the sight before them, as did Louise and the four officers.

"Hugh?! What happened?!" Arthur nearly yelled as he took in Hugh's current state.

He sported a bandage around his head and had his left arm bound in a cast. His clothes were in tatters. But most surprisingly was the expression on his face: a mixture of hatred, sorrow, and regret.

"Your Highness, forgive me, for I have failed. Wardes has killed the prince and taken the letter," he apologized, with tears threatening to flow from him.

"And Newcastle?" Arthur asked.

Hugh shook his head. "The Duke of Marlborough never made it. He had to retreat after being ambushed by a Reconquista army."

Arthur's face paled at the news. It was all he could do to remain standing.

"You mean to say that –"

"Yes, Arthur. Newcastle is no more."

"Viscount Wardes? Newcastle? Your Highness, what are they talking about?!" Louise demanded.

Tears started to form in Henrietta's eyes as she tried to contain her emotions to no avail. "Louise… Wardes, your fiancé… is in league with Reconquista," she sobbed.

Louise slowly shook her head. "No. No, it can't be true. Please tell me this isn't true," she whispered.

Arthur approached the shocked mage as he pulled out a scroll from his tunic.

"As much as I myself don't want to believe it, everything you heard is true," he murmured as he handed the scroll to the mage.

Slowly, Louise unrolled the scroll and read its contents. As she read, a torrent of emotions swirled within her, ranging from anger to loneliness to betrayal.

She dropped the scroll as she fell to her knees and wept, covering her face

"All this time… I-I trusted Wardes. I never expected him to be like this. After all these years… why, Wardes? Why did he do this? I trusted him! I TRUSTED HIM!"

"Arthur, what's going on? I'm afraid I don't understand," Julius asked as he approached the duke.

Arthur turned to face him. "Major Sickles, the Reconquista is a group of nobles who seek to overthrow the ruling house in Albion and install a holy republic. Their ultimate goal is to conquer all of Halkeginia and to take back the holy land from the elves. And Louise's fiancé, Viscount Wardes, who is – or was in command of the Griffin Knights, is one of their agents," he explained.

Daniel and Lionel frowned in disgust as they listened.

"It's ISIS all over again," Christian whispered to Daniel.

"Too damn right," the other captain responded.

Hugh made his way over to Henrietta and took out a ring from his tunic.

"Your Highness, the prince had this on his person. I thought that you may want a memento of him," he said, taking the princess's hand and placing the Ring of Wind in it. He removed the Ring of Water from his finger and returned it to its original owner.

Wiping her eyes, Henrietta placed the late Wales's ring on the armrest of her throne and slipped her ring back onto her finger. She stood up and murmured a silent thanks to Hugh before approaching Louise.

"Louise, please lift your head up," she requested as she knelt before her friend and placed her arms around her.

The pink-haired mage lifted her head, her body heaving as she was wracked with sobs.

Julius and his three captains could do nothing but watch the scene before them. For a moment, none of them said a word until Christian spoke up.

"Who's in charge of Reconquista?" he asked Arthur.

The duke raised his head, his eyes alight with fury. "Cromwell. Oliver Cromwell, he's the self-styled 'Lord Protector of Albion,' but the way I see it, he's nothing but a madman," he responded.

The four officers narrowed their eyes at this piece of information.

"Cromwell, you say?" Julius mused. "There was a similar man with a similar name back in our world, who had done similar things in our nation. To be honest, a lot of our countrymen hated him for his actions. I'm sure that my men would love to have a go at this world's Cromwell. Isn't that right, lads?" he turned to his subordinates.

"The men have been getting restless for quite a while now, sir. Perhaps running some drills would keep them occupied," Lionel stated.

Daniel approached the Duke of Northumberland and bowed before him. "Your Grace, I believe that we have not been properly introduced yet. I am Capt. Daniel Graham, and these are my fellow captains, Lionel Bristol and Christian Green, and our commanding officer, Maj. Julius Sickles," he gestured to the other officers as he introduced them.

The duke tried and failed to maintain an air of dignity. "Hugh Percy, Duke of Northumberland. I wish that we could have met under more favorable circumstances."

The officers could only nod. For a moment, the throne room was bathed in silence before Julius eventually spoke up.

"Your Highness, Your Graces, I sense that this is a moment where you will want some time to grieve alone. By your leave?"

Henrietta nodded as she managed to partially compose herself. "Yes, that would be much appreciated, Major. I'm afraid I would need some time alone for the rest of the day."

Julius gave a short nod. "Of course, Your Highness. We shall take our leave now."

The four officers and Louise exited the throne room. As soon as they were out of earshot, Arthur turned to Hugh.

"Any new information on Reconquista's plans for invasion?" he inquired.

Hugh nodded as he took out a map and unrolled it for the two other nobles to see. "Their plan is to land their men directly on Tristain's coast. We can only guess as to where they specifically intend to land."

Arthur took a closer look at the map, taking note of the towns and settlements lining the coast, before his eyes landed on one such point of interest further inland.

"Their objective is Tarbes. You see those six roads branching out to the west, south, and east? Once the Reconquista have control of it, there's no way to know where they'll strike next."

Henrietta frowned. "How should we defend it? And if they ever take the town, how should we retake it?"

The two Albionian nobles glanced at one another before turning their attention to Henrietta.

"We might have just the answer to that," Arthur smirked.

 **Tristain Academy of Magic, 0845 hours**

To say that the collective mood among Julius, his company commanders, and Louise was sour was an understatement. As soon as they had left the palace gates, Christian had unleashed a string of expletives at the mere thought of Cromwell, with Julius managing to calm him down with a pointed glare. Christian had immediately understood the message and, after a hasty apology for not acting like how an officer should, kept silent for the rest of the trip.

As they entered the academy's gates, they saw Colbert as he walked out of the main building. The bespectacled professor approached them.

"Louise, Maj. Sickles. Perfect timing, I was about to go to Tarbes. Would any of you like to accompany me?" he asked.

Julius glanced at his subordinates before turning to Colbert. "Tarbes? If I may ask, why?"

Colbert chuckled. "Well, you see, I recently heard of a legendary dragon of some kind that was recently discovered in Tarbes. I'd like to know as much as I can about it."

"You mean one of the legendary dragons that my great-grandfather rode on?" another voice joined in.

Julius and the others turned to find Siesta, who was dressed in a white shirt and red skirt. She held a suitcase in her hands.

"Wait, your ancestor rode one of them? And where are you going, by the way?" Lionel asked.

Siesta smiled. "This may sound unbelievable, but my great-grandfather originated from the same world that the dragon did. He got separated from another dragon when my grandfather's dragon flew into a solar eclipse, and he kept flying until he had to land in Tarbes, which is where I'm headed now in order to see my family."

As Julius and his officers listened on, they grew increasingly suspicious of Siesta's tale, and after exchanging glances, the major cleared his throat.

"How far away is Tarbes?" he asked.

Siesta turned to him. "Three hours on horseback."

Julius turned to Lionel and snapped his fingers. The captain immediately ran off to inform Marcus of the transport detail, and after a few minutes, Colbert and Siesta left in a chariot, followed by Louise on horseback and five Challenger tanks with Julius, Travis, and 1st Platoon onboard.

 **Tristanian Countryside, 1107 hours**

The group stopped for a quick lunch outside a cave, with the Challengers having no choice but to wait at the foot of a mountain where the cave was located. As Julius was finishing his meal, he heard a shout from one of the privates, who had gone exploring the cave.

"Major! I found something, you're not gonna believe this!"

Julius quickly stood up, rifle in hand and rucksack on his back, and motioned for Travis to follow him.

Turning his taclight on, he scanned the surrounding area and he found what the private was referring to – and stopped dead in his tracks as he came upon a familiar sight.

In front of them was a large, six-wheeled vehicle painted in desert colors. He took note of the L7A2 machine gun mounted above the vehicle's cabin.

"How the hell did a Coyote TSV end up here?" he wondered incredulously.

Travis immediately keyed his mic. "Broadsword 1-1 to all Broadsword elements, regroup on me posthaste!"

Within a minute, the entire platoon, along with Louise, Colbert, and Siesta, joined up with Julius and Travis, and all of them were stunned by the discovery of a vehicle hidden in a cave.

Julius carefully inspected the vehicle, checking for possible traps that may have been laid. After ensuring that the vehicle is free of traps, he switched on the engine.

The three Tristanians they were escorting jumped back as the engine came to life, letting out a healthy roar.

"What in Brimir's name is that thing?" Louise asked as the headlights were turned on.

Travis turned to the young mage with a smirk. "This, Miss Vallière, is a Coyote Tactical Support Vehicle."

"Is this the treasure you were looking for?" a new voice sounded out.

Kirche, Tabitha, and Guiche entered the cave and joined the platoon.

"What are you doing here, Kirche? I don't recall inviting you to come along," Louise snapped.

The Germanian redhead chuckled. "We happened to overhear Siesta talking to some of the dashing soldiers back at the academy regarding this treasure, so we decided to see for ourselves what this treasure is."

Julius just shook his head and sighed. "Fine, you three can come along, but you better stay out of our way."

He opened the Coyote's passenger seat. "Siesta, you're riding up front, you'll be guiding us the rest of the way. Travis, get on that GPMG," he ordered.

 **Outskirts of Tarbes, 1441 hours**

The Coyote slowed to a stop in front of what could be described as a large shed, though it looked suspiciously similar to an aircraft hangar. Julius got out and, after helping Siesta off the TSV, glanced around the area, which was crawling with vegetation. As the platoon set up a perimeter while Colbert unlocked the shed's doors, he noticed Tabitha staring at a stone.

"What are you looking at, Tabitha?" he asked as he approached her.

The blue-haired mage did not respond, continuing to stare at the stone. When Julius reached her, he read the inscriptions on the stone, only to recoil in shock.

"Travis, get over here!" he yelled as the shed was opened.

Travis quickly made his way to the major. "What is it, Major?" he asked.

In lieu of a reply, Julius pointed to the stone.

Travis inspected the stone, his eyes widening as he made out the inscribed words.

"Sir Julius, Sir Travis, what's wrong?" Louise asked as she joined them.

"'Squadron Leader Victor Evans, March 21st, 1922, No. 615 Squadron, Royal Air Force,'" Travis read.

"It's… Travis, it's our language… our nation…" Julius stammered.

He quickly bolted for the shed, with his lieutenant close behind. He beheld a sight that he never imagined would be present in Halkeginia.

It was an aircraft from the Second World War. Julius slowly approached it and laid a hand on its starboard wing. As he did so, the runes on his left arm glowed.

"This isn't a dragon," he breathed. "It's a P-47D Thunderbolt."

"A fighter-bomber, to be exact, it's got bombs and rockets," Travis observed.

Julius turned to Siesta. "Siesta, your great-grandfather and I, my men, and the Hussars all came from the same country in our world."

"Sir Julius," Colbert suddenly spoke. "There might be a way for you to return to your world after all! This dragon managed to emerge into this world by flying into a solar eclipse, which is four days away, I don't see why the reverse can't be true. If you fly into a solar eclipse, you might be able to return home."

"And leave my men and comrades to fend for themselves?" Julius spat out bitterly. "What will they think of me? Hell, what will the rest of my world think of me if I do such a thing?"

He stepped closer until he was directly in Colbert's face.

"It's tempting to go back home as soon as I have the opportunity, but I'm not leaving if my men don't have the means to return home themselves. So help me God, Professor, find another way to get _all of us home."_

The others fell silent at this statement. For 1st Platoon, the major's refusal to take the chance to return home when the opportunity was within arm's reach just so he could remain with them was nothing short of admirable, a sentiment shared by the six Halkeginians with them.

Colbert gave a slow nod. "I'll see what I can do, sir."

Stepping back, Julius shifted to another, lighter topic.

"I assume that you've been recreating what you would call the dragon's blood, correct?" he inquired.

"Yes," Colbert nodded. "Is it what gives this life?"

Travis shook his head. "What you're referring to as dragon's blood is actually called petrol."

"And we need as much petrol as possible," Julius added.

The balding mage nodded. "That can be arranged."

 **Tristain Academy of Magic, 0943 hours**

After spending the night at Tarbes, Julius and the platoon returned to the academy, where the rest of the battalion and the Hussars greeted them with pleasant surprise, and the returning students looking on with awe. After having Colbert perform another replenishment spell on the Coyote and refuel the P-47, the fighter-bomber was placed outside the academy, with two sections each from A, B, and C Companies maintaining round-the-clock watch on the aircraft for any possible infiltrators or saboteurs.

The major sat in the driver's seat of the TSV, silently wondering if he had done the right thing. As he mulled over the events that had transpired the day before, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and turned to see Louise heading for him.

"Louise, something I can help you with?" Julius asked.

The young mage shook her head. "I just wanted to take a look at your… what did you call this?" she gestured to the Coyote.

"Ah, the Tactical Support Vehicle. It has served our nation well for quite some time now. We use it to give us better mobility, perform reconnaissance and patrol duties, and transport soldiers to where they need to be," the major explained.

Louise blinked, still unable to comprehend that such a vehicle existed.

Before she could say another word, she heard the sound of a horse galloping towards the academy. As she turned to the source of the sound, she noticed Guiche closing in fast, a look of panic plastered on his face.

"Guiche, slow down! What the hell's wrong?" Julius asked as Guiche dismounted his horse and stooped over to catch his breath.

"I… I just came from Tristania. A-Albion changed its name to the Holy Republic of Reconquista," he gasped.

The major got out of the TSV. "Albion did what?!" he demanded.

"They've a-a-also declared war… on Tristain," the blond mage finished, collapsing to his knees.

Julius froze for a moment before he regained his composure. "Son of a bitch," he murmured.


End file.
